Heroes
by DAnNSfreak
Summary: Xover with Heroes. Well, sorta. Only two characters of Heroes are involved and it's a completely CSI NY story. Strange things are happening to the CSIs. Things beyond scientific comprehension. Destiny is calling. Are they willing to answer?
1. Dreaming of Reality

Disclaimer: All CSI NY characters belong to their wonderful creators and CBS. The two Heroes characters that appear throughout the story belong to the creators of Heroes and NBC, and so does their amazingly creative plot on human evolution (I'm still waiting for my powers to manifest, by the way. :-p). I am not earning anything from this and I am merely borrowing them for my own entertainment, and hopefully others as well.

I am taking quite a leap here, mixing Heroes with CSI NY. But this plot has been bugging me for ages and I just had to get it out. If you don't like the idea of our favourite 6 NY characters obtaining super powers and hanging round with the likes of Mohinder and Sylar, than you better not continue reading.

If, however, the idea appeals to you, read on, and leave a review at the end. :-) Thanks in advance.

Oh, and thanks to co-plotter, Jess, whom was kind enough to give me plenty of ideas and suggestions in exchange for nothing more than the permission to give Flack a cool, macho power of her choice.

Timeline: CSI NY: After Snow Day. So there will be M&Ms scattered here and there.   
Mohinder: After he figures out the password to his dad's list. Before he had Sylar tagging round him like a lap dog. :-D

_Chapter One_

_I've been having strange dreams lately. Completely unlike anything I've ever dreamt before. Unpleasant dreams are quite in the norm to me. Images of rotting bodies of __young __children__, bludgeoned college girls, mutilated corpses and bodies reduced to ashes__ will be nothing new to you either, if you've seen all that I've seen, in my line of work... _

_But for the past week, I've been dreaming of different things. Less haunting, yes, but disturbing none the less. _

_Fire. _

_Furious flames with shades of red, yellow and orange all around me, licking my skin, engulfing me. __But I don't feel any pain. No burns. No __heat__. Just the enigmatic beauty of the flickering flames._

_On and on... every night._

_It's not always fire... just last night I dreamt of waves crashing all around me, in an ocean with a never ending horizon. __Cold wind swept through me, chilling my insides. Then everything froze. Water into ice... inches thick. _

_Dreams like these remind me of fantasy novels where heroes save the world from a demented enemy or complete destruction (or both), using super powers to do with elements like ice, water, fire and air. _

_But that's not my __world. My world is the world that created the magical world above. The world that most people wish they could escape to, just to be special or to __find easy__ solutions to their problems._

_But that's not reality. Reality is ice, water, fire a__nd air being just what they are:__natural phenomena of everyday life__Reality is heroes having no powers out of the ordinary. __Reality is people like me__ and my colleagues, who are trying to save the world...__ one person at a time, one murderer behind bars at a__ time.__ Sometimes, we get lucky with two murderers at a time. And throughout all that, we still have to deal with the grieving husbands, wives, mums and dads, siblings and friends. _

_That's reality. _

_These dreams... are just that. Dreams. _

_Ok... ok... I can argue with myself all I want. Despite it all, I can't help but wonder if something different is coming my way. __I can't help but wonder if __these __dreams __mean more __than just images concocted by my subconscious trying to break away. __Am I being a fool to be hoping that there could be something more?_

"You alright?"

Danny Messer looked up from the coffee mug he was clutching in his hand with a start to see Stella Bonasera looking at him, eyebrows knitted in concern.

"Um, yeah," he muttered, "Fine. Just... uh... thinking..."

Stella didn't look completely convinced, but she nodded and went over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.

Danny leaned back in his seat and heard his back pop. How long had he been sitting there anyway? Hand rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes followed Stella. The break room was empty except for the two of them. She had gone over to the sink and grabbed a clean glass from the shelf above it. "You've been looking a little more drained lately... you sure you're okay?"

Danny gave her a smile and said bracingly, "I'm good."

"Yeah well, these murders have gotten to pretty much everyone here..." said Stella. She was talking about the series of brutal killings that have started around a couple of weeks ago. They have had five crime scenes where the bodies were all killed in the same way. Heads sawed open at the forehead with the brain spilled out, chunks missing.

Whoever the killer was, he was good. Everyone was working overtime sifting through prints, running background checks for things victims had in common and following empty leads. So far, they had turned up nothing. Pressure to solve this case was mounting from the media, the public and of course, from the brass above.

Danny nodded, seizing the ready made excuse. Sure, the cases bothered him. He wanted to solve them just as much as anyone else in the NYPD. But other things were occupying his mind now. Why those dreams? Why now?

Stella's eyes travelled from the thin scars on his left hand to the dark circles under his now-not-so bright blue eyes. There was something different about the younger CSI's demeanour, but Stella couldn't put her finger on exactly what. Was it trauma from the hostage situation a couple months back? Or the grisly crime scenes they had to endure for the last two weeks?

Deciding to keep a close eye on Danny for the next few days, Stella filled up the glass she was holding with the water from the bottle.

Just when she was about to take a sip, the glass broke into several pieces, spilling water all over her and the table. Suddenly alert, Danny leaped out of his seat to save himself from the flowing water saying, "Stel... you okay?"

Stella nodded slowly, still numb from shock. The pieces of glass remained clutched in her hand, cutting her a little. She quickly got up and went over to the sink to wash up. Danny meanwhile grabbed a handful of tissue paper and started wiping the spilt water of the table top.

"What just happened?" Danny asked, somewhat amusedly.

Turning on the tap and washing the blood from the couple of cuts on her hand, Stella smiled a little and said, "Must have squeezed too hard..."

They both started laughing.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_"He did it you know... he discovered them. His theory was right."_

_"And that is good news, yes?" Her tone was hopeful._

_He looked straight into his mother's eyes, "Why didn't __he__ tell me?"_

_"He wanted you to live your own life," she replied, "So now you know about them, what would you do?"_

_The answer seemed to be just waiting __for its question__, he __now knew that__ this was what he wanted all __along,__ "Find them! Tell them who they are if they don't already know! Warn them of the dangers they face!"_

_His mother looked at him almost pityingly, "And who will protect you?"_

Mohinder Suresh's eyes burned with the strain of staring at the computer screen for so long. His back ached and he was just plain tired. But he couldn't stop. Not now. He had to do this, for his father's sake... and for his own.

He scrolled down the list his father had made, reading names and locations. No more doubts. His father was right all along. _They exist... _

Mohinder was astounded at how many his father managed to discover. And who knows how many there are that haven't been found yet?

_Terry Mitchell... Melbourne, Australia._

Mohinder grabbed a coloured pin off the table and turned to the map behind him. It was getting quite cluttered, with all the pins, articles, pictures, post-its and strings stretched over the continents. Mohinder stuck the pin into a spot in South Australia and stepped back, surveying the map. _Human evolution... right here in front of me._

Behind him, a tune sang out from the TV, signalling the 8 o'clock news. Mohinder got back into his seat and returned to the list. The news anchor's voice reached his ears but he didn't bother to absorb what was being said.

_"Another gruesome killing happened today. Fiona McCurt, aged 37, was found dead in her __home__ in Queens with her skull cut open and brain removed."_

Mohinder looked up at the anchorwoman's solemn expression, attentive all of a sudden.

_"She is now the sixth body to be found murdered in such a brutal fashion_ _The public is shocked and baffled__ by these serial killings t__hat have started two weeks ago. The murderer appears to choos__e__ his victims at random and __has __str__uck __different locations all over New York.__NYPD __head of detectives, Chief Sinclair has __assured New York citizens that there is no need to panic as his team of officers are working their hardest to take down this mad murderer as soon as possible."_

The screen showed a tall burly black man standing in front of a one-story house with crime scene tape surrounding it. The man spoke into the several mikes in front of him, _"I have placed my best team of detectives in the NYPD on this case. __They have already uncovered several leads to these murders. __I promise you, w__e ar__e going to catch this murderer, and he will answer for his crimes."_

Mohinder frowned, heart thumping fast. Fiona McCurt, he read that name somewhere before...

His eyes returned to the computer screen. Scrolling upwards, eyes searching frantically, he found what he was looking for. _Fiona McCurt, New York City._ With a sigh, he highlighted the name and pressed a button. The name turned red and instead of New York City, the location now read 'deceased'.

Brain working furiously, Mohinder got up and headed over to the stack of newspapers he had left on his coffee table. He quickly found what he was looking for, an article about the murders, with the names of the previous five victims.

Charlie Devons... Greg Davidson... Sally Tracin... Jean Willards... Samantha Runnick.

All with their skulls sliced open. All on his father's list. All deceased.

Mohinder's hand clenched into a tight fist.

_Sylar..._

Head throbbing slightly, Mohinder debated his options. Who should he tell? The police? Right... "911? I know who the killer is. He's a man who kills people with special abilities and eats their brains to obtain their powers. Oh? Didn't you know? The human species is experiencing evolution at a rapid speed. There are people all over the world with special DNA that gives them amazing abilities. They could change the world as we know it! It's all fascinating stuff, really."

Fingers drumming an anxious rhythm on his desk, Mohinder looked back down at the article. There was a picture of one of the crime scenes. A few police officers in uniforms and Forensic jackets were in the picture but only two faces were clear. One was serious looking man with short brown hair wearing a gold pin with the letter 'D' on his jacket. Mohinder had seen this same man in the newspaper a couple of months ago when he first came to New York. The news article had called him a hero. He, along with his team, had prevented members of the Irish Mob from stealing a large amount of cocaine from the NYPD evidence vault.

The other face was a woman with long curly brown hair carrying a silver kit. She had an attractive face with sharp features indicating Greek ancestry. Under the picture, was the caption: _The detectives heading this case are Detective Mac Taylor__and Detective Stella Bonasera. Both of which have not offered any comment on these brutal killings so far._

Mohinder's stomach let out a protesting growl... dinner time. He moved the cursor to close the program. But just before he did, his eyes caught a name on the list.

_Stella Bonasera, New York City__. File #135_

She was one of the few that his father had started researching and kept a file on. Mohinder opened the drawer beside him. Inside were several files with names stuck on. Mohinder fingered through the files and what he was looking for.

_Stella Bonasera. _

The file was quite thin. He opened it and the first thing he saw was a picture of the same woman he saw earlier. This picture was black and white and she looked a bit younger. But it was her alright. Behind the picture, there were several printed pages of paper as well as some pictures and diagrams.

Dinner would have to wait.


	2. Animal Instinct

Disclaimer: CSI NY and Heroes characters belong to their creators on CBS and NBC respectively. I am not earning anything from this. And the words in italics at the beginning were said by Mohinder Suresh, so it doesn't belong to me either.

Thanks for the reviews. **hanily**, no worries, all six of them are getting powers. I like Lindsay too:-)

Flack chapter this one. Try and guess their powers! Thanks for reviewing in advance.

_Chapter 2_

_Some individuals, it is true, are more special. This is natural selection. It begins as a single individual born or hatched like every other member of their species. Anonymous. Seemingly ordinary. _

_Except they are not. _

_They carry inside them the genetic code that will take their species to the next evolutionary rung. It's destiny._

-1984-

"C'mon, tiny. Show me what ya' got..." sneered the older boy, grinning menacingly at Don.

Don didn't meet his eyes. He kept his gaze on the basketball that was alternating between bouncing on the court and his opponent's hand. He hardly heard the other kids' cheers emitting all around him.

He made a swipe for the ball but the older boy yanked it away at the last moment and scored a slam dunk, amidst the cheers as well as groans of many.

"Ha-hah! Me thinks the great Don Flack _Junior_ ain't so good after all!" he taunted, placing heavy emphasis on the word 'Junior'.

Don gritted his teeth. All he wanted to do now was beat this guy. He'll be the first 10-year-old on the street to beat an opponent a good four years older than he was in one-on-one basketball. His reputation was at stake. Not only was he one of the best basketball players around, his dad was Don Flack Senior... the tough, street-wise, seasoned cop that everyone looked up to.

He glared at the sneering face of his opponent. He was only a point behind. Heart thumping furiously against his chest, he knew that there was no way he could beat the older boy unless he could be faster...

_I need to __get__ faster..._

_Faster..._

Suddenly, the voices from the crowd became distant... detached. Don could clearly see the path that'll take him straight to the basket. The cheers sounded like distant echoes.

He started moving. He ducked under his opponent's arm. He ran.

What was that he heard? It sounded like a lion... or leopard snarling.

_Swish!_

He scored. The sound emitting from the crowd returned to normal.

The boy grabbed the ball, smirking. "Lucky shot. You're goin' down, daddy's boy..."

Someone in the crowd yelled, "Defence!"

Many joined in, "Defence... Defence...!"

Don drew a deep breath. _What just happened anyway?_

His opponent ran to the left. Don followed at blocked his way. The boy scowled, and slammed his shoulder into Don, who fell heavily onto the court.

"Foul!" the crowd screamed.

Don never felt such hatred and anger before. He scrambled up and once again, the noise all around him dimmed. It was like someone turned down the volume.

He ran after the boy and shoved back. Just when he did, he heard the snarl again. Vicious... catlike...

His opponent went flying a good few feet across the court. Don didn't stop to think. He ran straight for the hoop and the ball flew smoothly in. The crowd erupted in applause, save for the friends of the older boy.

They rushed over to his side and helped him up. He was groaning in pain, "Damnit Flack. You're a freak!" He and his gang dashed off in the opposite direction.

"Good game," said a female voice behind him. Don turned around to face Angeline, his next door neighbour of the same age.

Don nodded and smiled, "Thanks."

"You pushed him real hard there..." she muttered, looking back towards the boy, who had an arm around his chest, grimacing.

"Dunno my own strength, I guess..." Don replied cheekily.

Angeline still looked worried. After a moment, she asked, "Can I say something? Just an observation..."

"Yeah?"

"You didn't really look yourself just now..." she said.

"Whaddya mean?" he asked, eyebrow arched.

She shrugged, "I dunno... you just seemed... different. Not human..."

Don stared. "That's crazy."

Angeline bit her lip, "Yeah... I guess..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

-2007-

Don Flack entered the crime lab break room and slapped Danny on the back, "Hey."

Danny nodded in his direction and returned his gaze to the TV set where Sinclair was speaking into no less than half a dozen mikes, promising the quick capture of the skull-cutting serial killer, "My team has several leads and are working on them as we speak."

Stella snorted and said, "Several leads, my ass... we've got nothing." She grabbed two apples off from the fruit bowl and tossed one in Lindsay's direction, "Isn't it better to tell the public the truth, rather than lead them under a false sense of security? This guy has no pattern. None of our victims have anything in common. We're going nowhere with this!"

Danny turned off the TV with a casual flick of the remote and looked back down at the open file in his hand, saying with a bemused smile, "What bugs me more is him referring to us as 'my team'... Like he owns us..." he looked up for a moment, then muttered, "Ok, in a way, maybe he does..."

Lindsay was biting into the apple when she looked up and saw Mac coming their way from the end of the corridor. But before he could, he was stopped by Deputy Inspector Gerrard. Neither men liked each other very much and that mutual dislike showed quite clearly right now. Both were glaring daggers at each other as Gerrard spoke in a not-too-friendly manner. "Wonder what they're saying?" she asked.

The other three turned to look. Flack shook his head, "Gerrard's probably chewing Mac a new one about catching this guy..." Lindsay's voice echoed in his head. _'Wonder what they're saying?'_

Then, the noise around him diminished all of a sudden. Flack recognized this feeling from over 20 years ago. The crunching sound of Stella and Lindsay eating their apples and the flapping from the pages in the file Danny was turning became hollow sort of echoes.

Suddenly, he could hear Mac and Gerrard's voices clearly as if they were in the break room and not at the end of the corridor.

Mac was saying, "I am not treating this case lightly, Gerrard. When have I ever done that for any of my cases?"

"Then tell me, Taylor, why is it that there have been 6 murders by the same man and you haven't even gotten a suspect?"

"Whoever this is, he is covering his tracks well. He left no fingerprints, DNA or footprints,"

"So you're telling me our murderer is a ghost?" asked Gerrard sarcastically, "What about the M.O? The victims?"

Mac's tone was calm, but Don could sense the anger in it, not all of it directed at Gerrard, "Nothing that all the victims have in common, but we're still digging."

"Well, dig harder," demanded Gerrard, "Murder weapon?"

Now there was tiredness creeping into Mac's voice, "We can't match it to any tools yet. The cuts made were clean... no tool marks. I... can't explain it. Yet."

Gerrard shook his head, "You'd better explain it soon." With a hard glare at Mac, he turned and walked off, nearly slamming into a young Indian man with curly dark hair that had just come out of the lifts.

A loud screeching sound followed, causing Flack to wince in pain and sound flooded back into his ears like normal.

"Did ya' hear me?" Danny asked, looking at him.

"What?" Flack asked, confused.

Danny said with an air of exaggerated patience, "I said Mac looks like he'll like nothing better than to punch Gerrard..."

Flack nodded, "Gerrard accused him of not taking the case seriously."

At that very moment, Mac stormed in and walked straight to the fridge. "I need something quick. That..." he struggled with himself for a moment, and then said, "Gerrard accused me of not taking these serial killings seriously. Easy for him to say, all he has to worry about is which tie to wear for the day's news conference..."

The other four exchanged glances. They have never seen Mac this agitated before. Then, Stella turned to Flack, "How did you know?"

"What?"

"How did you know that's what Gerrard told Mac?" Stella asked.

Flack frowned, "I heard him... just now..." Four confused faces stared back at him, "Didn't you?"

"No..." answered Lindsay, stretching the one syllable word into about five.

Mac couldn't bring himself to bother with things like Flack hearing things no one else could at the moment, "Danny, is that the autopsy report on the latest victim?"

"Yeah," grunted Danny, closing it and passing it over to Mac, "It's pretty much a carbon copy of the last five victims. No defensive wound. Skull cut open. Clean. No tool marks. Brain mutilated..."

"How does he do it? Knives, saws, blow torch? Everything leaves tool marks..." said Lindsay, exasperated.

Mac sighed. She was right. After a moment, he said, "Ok. Here's what we do. I'll get Hawkes and we'll go back to the bodies. See if there's anything we missed. Stella and Lindsay, go back to the crime scenes. Right now, all we can do is retrace our steps and hope we'll find something relevant... Danny, back to all the victim's backgrounds, be thorough. Don't miss anything out; gym memberships, phone records, clubs... whatever. Find us something that links all six of them together."

They all nodded and prepared to get to work.

There was a knock on the break room glass door and they turned to see a uniformed officer with an Indian man behind him, the same man Gerrard nearly collided into earlier.

"Excuse me, Detective Bonasera; this man would like to talk to you. Says it's important..." said the officer curtly.

The Indian man nodded earnestly at Stella. The others paused for a moment before stepping out of the break room. Lindsay muttered as she followed Mac, Danny and Flack out, "I'll meet you in the locker room."

Stella nodded uncertainly and said, "Ok... um, come in..."

The officer left and the Indian man walked in. He looked quite young, his tone nervous and uncertain as he said, "My name is Dr. Mohinder Suresh. I am a geneticist from Chennai University in India. You are Stella Bonasera?"

Not knowing where in the world this was going, she nodded, "Yes..."

He sat down on the chair opposite her and said, "I have something important to tell you."


	3. I'm No Superman

Disclaimer: CSI NY characters and Heroes character don't belong to me. They belong to CBS and NBC respectively. Not earing anything from this.

Yeah... I'm updating fast aren't I? Heh. I'm inspired. So there.

_Chapter 3_

"Do you... I mean... have you ever... experienced anything out of the ordinary?" Mohinder asked hesitantly. He hated doing this. The last few people he tried contacting on the phone have brushed him off as some maniac prankster.

Mohinder looked straight into Stella's eyes, willing her to tell him she was exactly who he, or rather his father thought she was.

"What?" Stella asked; her face set in an are-you-kidding-me expression, "Like what?" She now looked amused. Great.

Mohinder kept trying, "My father was also a geneticist. He had been working on a project called the Human Genome Project... he believed that there were people all over the world who had... well, special abilities. Powers,"

Mohinder dug into his bag and pulled out a thick blue hard-cover book entitled 'Activating Evolution'. "He wrote this... he had conducted an extensive research about the human genetic code and he believed that there are people with variations in their DNA that makes them... special,"

Stella was speechless for a few moments then she said smilingly, "What does that have to do with me?"

Mohinder didn't smile. He stared back at her, looking completely serious.

"You think I'm one of these people?" Stella asked, smiling even more. This was so amazingly absurd.

"Well, yes..." said Mohinder.

"And what kind of powers are we talking about?" Stella asked, almost laughing.

Mohinder sighed. He knew she didn't believe him. He knew she thought of this as some kind of joke, but he tried anyway, "All kinds of things. Uh... mind-reading, teleportation, object manipulation, spontaneous tissue regeneration..."

"Oh-kaaay..." Stella said, wide-eyed, "You know, I've got to get going... I don't think I'm the person you're looking for. I hate to disappoint you, but I don't have any of these abilities... no one has these kinds of abilities!" She got up and headed to the door.

"Wait!" Mohinder called out, pulling out the file his father made on her, "Look at this. Just take a look at this."

Stella stopped. He sounded so desperate. Like he really believed what he was saying. But how could he? These kind of things only existed in comic books. She looked at the file in his hand.

To her surprise, she saw her name printed on the label. No longer smiling, she opened the file. Her own face in black and white looked back at her. She had no idea this picture had been taken. She was a few years younger, walking down the street, not looking at the camera.

A piece of paper stuck out from behind the picture. Her name, birth date, address and other personal details, including the fact that she was an orphan was listed on the paper.

This was no longer funny. This Indian guy was stalking her, "How did you get this?" she demanded furiously.

"I didn't. It was my father's..."

"Well, where is your father?" Stella asked.

Mohinder hesitated, "He's dead."

Stella stopped for a moment, "I'm sorry." She didn't know whether she meant it or not. This Mohinder guy had to be insane. No other explanation.

She flipped to the other pages in the file. There were pictures and diagrams mostly on human muscles.

"My father believed that you had... well... super strength..." muttered Mohinder, almost as if bracing for an explosion, "Think back, please. Has there been any time at all that something happened to you that could mean you have this power?"

The words hit Stella like a hard punch. That proves it. He's nuts.

She slammed the filed shut and said, "You better get out of here, right now."

"But-"

"I'm keeping this," she said, clutching on the file, planning to burn it as soon as she could. She strutted out of the door.

"No, wait! You must listen! You're in danger! The man behind these serial killings... he could be after you next!" Mohinder called out.

Stella stopped short, "What do you know about the serial killings?"

Calmly and steadily, Mohinder said, "The six victims, I have reason to believe that they were all special too... the man who killed them, his name is Sylar."

"You know the killer's name?" Stella asked, incredulous.

"He is the same man who killed my father, months ago, when he was here tracking these special people down... Sylar killed him..." Mohinder continued, "Don't you see? Sylar wants all your powers, and by killing you, he can get them. That's why he cuts skulls open, that's why he removes their brains!"

Stella stayed silent for a long while. This guy could very well be a suspect. But even if she arrested him, she won't be able to hold him in custody. Other than all those ridiculous ideas, nothing points the murders in Mohinder's direction. And her gut says that he's harmless. But that was just her gut.

"You're lucky I'm not placing you under arrest. Get out of here. But don't leave town," said Stella.

Mohinder knew there was no point arguing, "Please. Be careful." He shouldered his bag and walked away.

Stella herself headed off in the direction of the locker room, very confused thoughts buzzing through her head. She was so absorbed that she didn't notice a tall dark figure, dressed in black and wearing a black cap watching her from a distance.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sheldon Hawkes was feeling happy. Sure, the case wasn't going all that well, but he felt good anyway. A good dinner, a good night's sleep and a nice morning run was all it took to make him feel on top of the world.

He walked into the locker room where he found Lindsay at her locker, "Morning."

"Someone's chipper..." Lindsay said, amused.

"Yeah well, it's one of those days, y'know," Hawkes said, smiling.

Lindsay smiled back, "Woke up at the right side of bed, huh?"

"Bingo," Hawkes grinned.

"Well, bouncy, Mac wants you to meet him in the morgue. Go over the bodies, see of we missed something," Lindsay told him.

"Right-o..." Hawkes replied, drawing a laugh from Lindsay.

Stella walked in, looking anything but happy.

"G'morning Stella," said Hawkes.

"Hi," was the dismissive reply, walking straight to her locker, a brown file in hand.

"Something wrong?" Hawkes asked, concerned. No sooner had he finished the sentence, he suddenly felt confused. It was like all the happiness was sucked out of him, only to be replaced by disturbed thoughts.

"I'm fine, Hawkes," replied Stella, pulling at her locker door. She cursed under her breath. It was jammed.

Out of nowhere, Hawkes felt a jab of frustration. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. One moment he was on top of the world, now, for no apparent reason, he felt drained... confused... annoyed.

Frowning to himself, he walked out of the locker room in search of Mac. And as quickly as it came, the cloud of despair cleared. He was in better spirits again. _'What was that?'_ he wondered. Shaking it off, he headed in the direction of the morgue.

Meanwhile, Stella pulled at her locker door but to no avail. Like her old locker back in high school, it remained jammed tight.

"What did that guy want, anyway, Stel?" asked Lindsay.

"Who? Oh... um... nothing important. Had some crazy theory about the serial killing, but he's just another nut job... it's nothing..." muttered Stella, pulling at the locker door but with no success.

_'There you go, Mohinder... I could sure use super strength now...'_she thought irritably.

She grasped the locker door handle on last time, took a breath, and yanked hard.

Stella not only got the locker door opened, she pulled it completely off its' hinges.

"Woah..." murmured Lindsay, staring at the locker door in Stella's hand, "Not bad, wonder woman..." she continued, laughing.

Stella couldn't laugh. The weight of the locker door in her hand felt like nothing. It was as if she was something as light as a pencil...

"I thought these lockers were fairly new... now they're already falling apart..." Lindsay said.

"Y-yeah..." said Stella shakily.

She quickly tossed the file Mohinder showed her into her locker and set the door down beside her now open locker. "The janitor will get it fixed, right?" she asked uneasily.

Lindsay laughed again, "Sure. Let's go."

Stella followed Lindsay out, still shaking.

_Super strength... __come on now..._

_N__o way..._


	4. Hot Coffee

Disclaimer: Not mine, never have been, never will be.

Ok. I'm still in mourning over the death of Ruben. (cries) So, ta-daaa! A Danny chapter! Just what everyone needs right now, right:-)

_Chapter 4_

_Fire..._

_I shouldn't be walking towards the out of control flames... but my legs wo__uldn__'t stop. _

_Closer and closer... _

_Fire... heat... burns..._

_For reasons I can't comprehend right now, I walk through the wall of flames. No pain... again. I stare at the ring of fire around me. There is some kind of enigmatic beauty here. _

_I hear a voice, "Put it out!" I look around. No one in sight. Nothing but __fire and I_

_Was__the voice__ in my own head?_

_The flames flickered out. I look down. The floor was flooding with water... over my shoes... up to my knees. A stab of panic ran through me. I'm going to drown. _

_"Stop!"_

_Again... was that me? _

_The water froze into ice. It was up to my waist. I'm stuck.__Am I dreaming again?_

_A chilly breeze sweeps over me. The ice disappears. __Out of one predicament, into another._

_A tornado.__ I try to run. It catches up with me. I'm pulled in. Spinning... wind howling... _

_"What's __goin__' on?!"__ That was definitely me._

_"Destiny."_

Danny Messer opened his eyes. He was completely disorientated and confused. It was a whole 10 seconds before his senses kicked in.

The computer whirred quietly in front of him. Distant sounds of footsteps echoed down the corridor. Rain pelted down against the window pane. His head was resting on his table in the office he shared with Stella, Lindsay and Hawkes.

He sat upright, immediately experiencing the sharp pain to his neck and back that usually came with being in the wrong position for too long. Straightening his glasses, he looked at his watch. Past midnight.

He looked back at his desk. Open files lay scattered messily all over the place. A half-filled coffee mug lay on top of a few files.

He must have fallen asleep going over the cell phone records of the six victims of the serial killing. The lab was silent, with only a few night shift officers and lab techs walking around.

He got up and walked to the window, staring out, trying to ease the stiff muscles in his neck.

Rain was poring heavily down onto New York City. Lightning flashed every once in awhile, accompanied by strong winds. The fact that he was 35 floors up did nothing to help sooth the uneasy state the dream put him in.

Why was he having all these dreams? What's with the voices he heard? Destiny? What destiny? As far as he knew, he was already living his destiny... working late into the night trying to 'save the world' one sick skull-cutting nut at a time.

He turned back to the files that littered his desk. Frustration crept up in him. If he found a phone number that was similar among three victims, the same number had nothing to do with the other three. On and on it went, since Danny started around dinner time.

He picked up the cup of coffee, took a sip, and nearly gagged. Freezing cold coffee on a freezing cold night. Not a good combination.

Still holding the coffee mug, he walked to the door and looked around. Had everyone left? He hadn't heard from anyone of them. Mac's office light was still on. He must still be here then.

Danny thought about giving up for the night. If he hadn't found a connection that ties all victims after more than 7 hours of research, he probably wasn't about to find it anytime soon. He was tired, sure, but no way was he going to get a good night's sleep when he's going to be dreaming about fire and water and detached voices.

Maybe he'll go over to Lindsay's. But she might be asleep already.

What he needed right now was a steaming hot cup of coffee, instead of this air-conditioned chilled version he had in his hand right now.

No sooner had he finished that thought, he looked down at the coffee mug in his hand.

A thin wisp of smoke escaped from the surface of the coffee, followed by a few more. The liquid was steaming...

Danny stared.

He could smell the already much improved aroma coming from the coffee.

It didn't stop there. A moment later, the liquid started bubbling, more and more furiously, like it was boiling.

Danny quickly set the cup down on his desk. The bubbling died down, steam still rising into the air. The coffee looked and smelt a whole lot more appetising than it did a short while ago.

His coffee just got reheated. By itself.

A thousand and one explanations and theories exploded in Danny's mind, none of which made the slightest sense or seemed even plausible.

One theory, the most outrageous of all, kept coming back.

Slowly, hesitantly, Danny reached for the cup and clenched it tightly in his hand.

Fully aware of how stupid and loony this seemed to him, he thought, _'Alright... __what if I wanted this cold?'_

Seconds passed, the liquid looked no different. But Danny could feel the cup getting colder. He stared. The coffee had turned into ice.

If he wasn't busy freaking out about his sanity, Danny would have found the frozen coffee to be quite funny.

_I'm doing this... but how?_

His hands were trembling slightly now. He started closing the folders and tossing them randomly on top of one another in an attempt to neaten up. He had to get out of here. Maybe he should just go home and sleep... maybe this was yet another absurd dream.

For the first time in a long time, Danny felt really lost. Should he tell someone? Should he pretend this never happened? Was this what his subconscious mind was telling him all along with those dreams?

What... what was his subconscious telling him? That he was turning into a human microwave oven and fridge?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mac was immersed in his own work. He flipped through the photos of the victims and crime scenes, carefully scrutinizing everything he saw.

He only looked up when he heard quick footsteps coming down the corridor. Danny popped his head in, "I'm outta here, boss."

Mac nodded, "Alright. Good night." He returned his eyes down to the pictures he was holding.

Was it Mac's imagination or was Danny looking rather panicky about something?

_"Damnit... something's really wrong with me..."_

Mac looked up again but Danny had gone. Strange... that was Danny's voice he heard, wasn't it? But he had already left... yet his voice sounded so clear...

Dismissing all those crazy thoughts as tiredness, Mac returned his attention to the crime scene photos.


	5. Questions but no Answers

Disclaimer: CSI NY does not belong to me. Neither does the words in the opening paragraph.

Sorry for the delay on this chapter. Enjoy!

_Chapter 5_

_Where does it come from, this ques__t? This need to solve life's mysteries?_

_When the simplest of questions can never be answered..._

_Why are we here?_

_What is the soul?_

_Why do we dream?_

_Perhaps we are better off not looking at all. Not doubting. Not yearning. _

_That's not human nature. Not the human heart._

_That's not why we are here._

Danny slammed the thick book with yellowing pages and stuffed it back into the shelf. Immediately he inhaled the musky scent of old books that have been neglected for a long period of time.

He checked his watch while stifling a yawn. It was still early. It was another half an hour before he had to head in to work. He had spent a long time on the internet last night when he got home, typing searches like _human heating and freezing capabilities, body temperature, strange human abilities _and so on. All of which turned up nothing other than weird websites that Danny felt it best to leave alone. He did not get more than three hours sleep that night.

After finishing up a quick sandwich for breakfast, he headed straight over to the public library near the lab, which had just opened. For the past 20 minutes, he had been sifting through titles, pulling out the ones that caught his eye, riffled through the pages, only to be disappointed and putting it back.

He turned randomly into a section and looked around, tilting his head a little to read the titles.

Danny didn't know what he expected to find here. He just felt that there had to be something, or someone out there who can explain things to him. Why now? His life had been normal (or as normal as it could be...), then out of nowhere, this happens...

His fingers ran gingerly over the books. He stopped at one and pulled it out, opening a page at random. The first thing he saw was a black and white picture of a bon fire.

_Fire..._

_His dreams..._

_He'll go nuts if he doesn't figure this out soon..._

He jumped. The picture of the bon fire had burst into a real flame. He watched, stunned, as the flame spread along the page, the smell of burnt paper rising into the air. Panicking, he tried putting it out.

_Stop... stop..._

Sure enough, the flame extinguished by itself. Or rather, Danny himself did it. He stared at the page, burnt to a black crisp. He slammed the book shut and kept it back into its' place. No need to explain to some cranky librarian that he set fire to the book with his mind...

Just when he was about to leave, another book caught his eye. He pulled it out and looked at the front cover. It was a thick blue book entitled, 'Activating Evolution'. He flipped to the back cover. There was a black and white picture of the author, a Dr. Chandra Suresh.

Danny glanced at his watch, time for work.

He took the book with him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Dr. Sheldon Hawkes felt less than happy today.

Ah... who was he kidding? He felt like crap with a capital C.

Everything was perfectly fine when he woke up and got ready for work. But the moment he stepped onto the streets, all kinds of feelings ranging from outright euphoria to complete depression followed him all the way to work.

By the time he slumped onto his chair in his shared office, he was emotionally exhausted. It felt like his emotions and moods were stretched on a taut string. And yet, he couldn't tell what was causing them. His thoughts were completely unrelated to what he felt.

Over and over again, he'd gone through the files of years of medical experience in his head but could not find any disease or sickness that could explain his abrupt mood swings that are even worse than a woman with menopause.

_'Calm down... think... why is this happening?'_

He thought back of the first time he felt a strong emotional change that morning. He had stepped out of the street and bumped into a man in a business suit, with a hurried look on his face. Wasn't it then that he felt a sudden jab of anxiousness?

Then he walked past a throng of teenage girls heading to school, didn't he feel strangely excited and happy?

Hawkes sat up straight, staring at nothing but brain working furiously. It seems that just before every mood swing, he was thinking of just one specific individual... as absurd and impossible as it seems to Hawkes, was he actually mirroring their emotions?

Hawkes looked up in time to see Danny walking towards the office, bag slung over his shoulder and a thick book tucked under his arm.

'Only one way to find out...' thought Hawkes, 'Danny Messer...'

Almost immediately, a wave of tiredness washed over Hawkes. Then there was anxiousness... curiosity... confusion... a hint of excitement and wonder.

_Hoo boy... _

Hawkes shook his head, trying to shake off the onslaught of emotions that weren't his. Danny entered the room and said, "Morning, Doc..."

"Yeah... hi..." Hawkes muttered, watching Danny throw his bag onto his chair and pulling off his dark jacket. He then opened the bag and stuffed the book he had been carrying into it, zipping it up carefully. With a nod at Hawkes, "Gotta run... see ya, Doc..."

He left and Hawkes could feel his own emotions returning to him. They weren't all that different from Danny's...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Danny entered the break room and saw Stella sitting by herself, staring into space.

"Hey Stel..." Danny said slowly, "You alright?"

Stella looked in his direction and nodded. Then she said, "Didn't I ask you that not too long ago?"

Danny smiled, "Yeah, you did. I said I was fine. Are you?" Danny considered for a moment telling Stella what was going on. He walked to the fridge, taking a glass of water on the way, and took out the big pitcher of water that was kept inside.

'Nah... she'll think I'm nuts...' he thought.

The pitcher was empty. He frowned in slight annoyance. Then, a thought occurred to him. If he dreamt of fire and he could set fire to a book, he dreamt of water too... so what if? He held the empty glass in front of him. Making sure his back was to Stella, he thought, 'Water...' Sure enough, water rose in the cup, right to the top.

He stared down at the pitcher in his other hand and tried again. As if an invisible tap had been turned on, the water level slowly rose up until the pitcher was full. A small smile played at Danny's lips. _Cool..._

Stella was saying, "Yeah. I'm fine..." She considered telling Danny about Mohinder Suresh and her apparent 'super strength' but decided against it. 'He won't believe me...'

Just this morning alone, Stella had actually snapped her toothbrush handle in half, broke another glass and tore pages out of books without meaning to. If those things happened to anybody else but her, she would have laughed. But she failed to find the humour in this.

She had read through the file she took from Mohinder. Apparently he, or his father, had done extensive research on human muscular strength and believed that her DNA carried a specific genetic alteration that gave her powerful strength without even trying.

Stella didn't believe it. She didn't want to believe it. But heck, she was breaking everything around her.

She turned to Danny, whose back was to her, "Danny... did you ever feel like... things are changing?"

Danny placed the pitcher back into the fridge and closed the door. _'You have no idea...'_he thought wryly.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

Stella shrugged, "I mean... have you ever experienced something that you just can't comprehend? Like-"

"Something you never believed possible?" Danny supplied.

"Exactly."

There was a long pause where the both of them were staring at one another curiously.

Then, Danny said, "Honestly? Yes."


	6. Not Alone

Disclaimer: CSI NY characters, Heroes characters, and opening paragraphs are not mine, never have been, never will be.

Again, sorry for the delay... impending doom while waiting for exam results has a knack of zapping the muse of of a person. p

Lindsay will be coming soon. Sorry about her disappearance.. heh

_Chapter 6_

_'__So much struggle for meaning, for purpose and in the end we find it only in each other. _

_How we share experience of the fantastic and the mundane. __The simple human need to find __a __kindred__, to connect and to know in our hearts ... that we are not alone.__'_

_"Honestly? Yes," said Danny, looking straight into Stella's eyes._

They remained staring at each other for a long time.

"Why?" Danny asked as nonchalantly as he could.

Stella avoided his question, "What do you mean? Is that just you humouring me... or...?"

Danny is reminded forcibly of an old West shootout where each opponent is waiting for the other to go for their guns. Or courteous people allowing each other to enter through the door first. _You first... no... __you__ first..._

"No, no. I just... um..." stuttered Danny.

"Is something happening to you too?" Stella asked cautiously, eyeing the glass in Danny's hand. He's not breaking it though...

"Why? Is something happening to you too?" asked Danny.

"Stop it!!" Stella snapped, she couldn't understand why she was suddenly so furious. Stella Bonasera hardly ever looses her cool. But hey, this was super strength she was dealing with so she ought to be allowed to loose her cool every now and then.

Stella got up and headed over to the rack where several mugs lay, "You know what's different, Danny? _This_ is different!" she picked one mug up and gave it a gentle squeeze. Instantly, the mug cracked into several pieces and the handle broke off.

She grabbed another mug and broke it again, as if it were a made of very thin glass.

"Stella..." Danny muttered, eyes wide.

"Everything was perfectly fine a couple of days ago, then I find out this Indian guy had been stalking me and he has a whole file on me. His son comes along and goes on about some guy named Skylar or Sylar or something like that who's supposed to be behind the serial killings! Why? Because the victims have 'powers' like _I do_ and he killed them and ate their brains in order to obtain their powers!" said Stella hysterically.

She took a deep breath and ploughed on, "First I thought this was all a hoax. But now I'm breaking everything I touch! I, Stella Bonasera, have super strength! So don't you dare laugh, Danny Messer, or I'll snap your neck in half, which I don't doubt I can!"

There was a long pause, then Danny asked calmly with a trace of a smile, "Finished?" He had never seen Stella lose control like that before. He felt the heavy load that had been weighing down upon him for the past week lessened considerably. He wasn't alone in this.

Stella crossed her arms and nodded at him, breathing heavily.

"Watch this..." Danny said, holding out the glass of water in his hand. He took a deep breath, concentrating. And right before Stella's eyes, the water turned into solid ice. Then, back to water which started bubbling and to Stella's astonishment, burst into a flame.

"Wha... how... you... how did...?" Stella asked shakily.

"I've been having vivid dreams about elements for quite a while... but it wasn't until last night that I found out I could do this..." replied Danny.

"Does... does anyone know?"

Danny shook his head, "Just you..."

"I can't believe it... this is real... I thought it was just me..." murmured Stella.

She suddenly looked up, "That means that there might be something to what Mohinder Suresh was saying after all," she caught Danny's questioning look and said, "He's a geneticist. He came to me yesterday, telling me about powers and this Sylar person..."

"Woah... so you think that's our killer?" Danny asked, arching an eyebrow, "What are we going to do?"

"Follow up on it. Find out what we can about Sylar," said Stella, returning back to her usual self, "Find Suresh. See what he knows..."

"And Danny? I don't think we should tell anyone about this. At least, not just yet." Stella said, "What we can do... it's not exactly normal... if the wrong people find out..."

Danny nodded, "I know. Freaks and lab guinea pigs..."

"Worse... if what Mohinder Suresh said is true, then Sylar could very well be after us and our brains next..." Stella said gravely while watching the flame flicker away inside the glass in Danny's hand.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mohinder stared around the quiet street. There was hardly anyone in sight. A few cars were parked along the curb, including a big dark SUV with a man sitting inside, reading a copy of the New York Times... waiting for someone in the Laundromat opposite probably.

With a nervous glance around, Mohinder headed up the stairs into the apartment building. He was headed towards the home of the first victim, Charlie Devons. According to the newspaper reports, he lived alone and had no living relatives here in New York.

It had been two weeks since his murder and Mohinder was counting on that fact in hope that he could get in unnoticed. The cops have long released this crime scene and by the looks of it, no one has bothered to come to handle the apartment just yet.

He got to the right door and spent a good 15 minutes picking the lock. Stella Bonasera had been pretty much a dead end. Maybe his dad was right, maybe he wasn't. Either way, she was a cop and Mohinder felt it better not to push further just yet.

He wasn't sure what he hoped to accomplish by breaking into Devons' apartment. His father only had his name in the list, but unlike Stella Bonasera, not a file. If he was lucky, Mohinder might be able to find a clue somewhere in here about the kind of ability Devon might have and also any clue that might tell him more about Sylar.

Mohinder went through the kitchen cabinets first, which wielded nothing. He next went into the bedroom. Other than an amazingly huge collection of CDs and DVDs stacked on top of each other on shelves, there was nothing else that seemed out of the ordinary.

Mohinder sighed, heading back out into the living room. More CDs and lined the shelves there but that's not what Mohinder was looking at. He bent down, surveying the dark patch on the carpet where Charlie Devon's very bloody body was found, skull cut open.

"Freeze!!" the door smashed open and in came no less than five police officers, each holding a gun, barrel pointing right at Mohinder.

One of them, Mohinder suddenly recognized as the man in the SUV he saw earlier. That same man edged closer to Mohinder while saying roughly, "Hands where I can see them."

Before he knew it, handcuffs were slapped onto Mohinder's wrists behind his back. The cop pulled out his cell phone, dialled a number and spoke into it, "Detective Flack, yeah. We got him..."

One of the other cops put a firm hand on Mohinder and guided him out of the apartment, "Let's go..." despite Mohinder's strangled protests, "Hey, no... no... I'm not... no..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mac Taylor navigated his way through the organized chaos of the New York Police Department, heading towards the interrogation room. Flack had called him not too long ago saying that his team had apprehended a suspect who had broken into the first crime scene earlier that morning.

Mac remembered the well known cliché, 'The suspect always returns to the scene of the crime...' Mac hoped for everyone's sake that that was true.

He stopped short though, at the sight of Inspector Gerrard heading in his direction, dressed as usual, in a crisp suit and navy blue tie. '_Not again...__'_ he thought wryly.

"Taylor!" called out Gerrard gruffly, "I hear we have a suspect."

Mac nodded politely, "He broke into the first victim's apartment. I'm going in to interrogate now."

Gerrard nodded, "Good. Keep me posted. Now if you'll excuse me, I have something important to attend to,"

He pushed past Mac but Mac heard him speak again, _'Got to __get this tie changed__. Damn news conference, changing the date all of a sudden. This blue one won't do... red... it's got to be red...__ at least I have a spare in my office...__'_

Mac did a double take. He turned around to look at Gerrard, but he was already half way down the corridor. Strange... really strange...

But Mac didn't have time to ponder it further as Flack had walked up to him, "Hey. Mohinder Suresh. I mean, Dr. Mohinder Suresh. Geneticist from India, teaches at Chennai University; arrived here only a month or so ago,"

Mac forced himself back to business, "Which means he was here in New York when the murders occur."

"Yeah. He claims he is innocent, but he won't tell us what he was doing breaking in into Charlie Devons' apartment. He won't even tell us what he's doing here in New York in the first place," Flack said, wearing his usual amused expression that always came with tackling strange, crazy, weird or all of the above types of suspects.

"But one thing... unless my memory of faces is getting out of whack, this guy is the same guy who came to see Stella yesterday morning," said Flack.

Mac frowned slightly. Stella hadn't mentioned to him about what that guy told her at all. He opened the interrogation door and entered, with Flack closely behind him.

Flack was right, this was the same young man who came in to see Stella yesterday. Mac sat himself in the chair opposite Mohinder Suresh and said calmly, "Dr. Suresh, I am..."

"Mac Taylor... I know. I saw you in the news before..." replied Mohinder, "I didn't kill those people..."

"Then what were you doing in Charlie Devons' apartment?" Mac asked.

_'You won't believe me...'_

"Try me..." Mac said.

Mohinder's eyes widened, "What?"

"You said I won't believe you, tell me anyway." Mac replied.

Flack shot Mac a questioning look, "Uh... Mac, he didn't say a word..."

"What?" Mac asked. "Yes he did... I heard..." Mac's voice trailed away, thinking back.

_'You won't believe me...__'_It was Mohinder's voice, but his lips hadn't moved. Mac frowned in puzzlement.

_'What in the world... did he hear what I was thinking or was that just a coincidence?' _came the voice again.

Mac stared at Mohinder. Again, that was his voice. But he noticed something else too. There was something rather different about that voice. It sounded quite 'echo-ish'. Just like last night with Danny... just like just now with Gerrard...

Mac ignored the sudden stab of panic he felt and shook his head, "Forget that. Why are you here in New York? You're a university professor, aren't you?"

"I have my reasons..." Mohinder muttered. _'Yes. I threw my life away on this insane quest for answers... and now look where it's landed me...' _

_'Wonder __what's up with Mac... he's acting __strange...'_

That was Flack's voice. But Flack was looking at Mohinder, face serious.

'_If they think I killed all those people, how am I supposed to get out of here? __Sylar's__ out there... and I'm nowhere closer to stopping him... or warning the others...'_

'What? Who?' Mac wondered, feeling a migraine coming on.

_'What do I say? I broke into __Devons__' place because he has a special ability that got him killed, and I'm trying to find out what... right. These two will have me thrown into the asylum...'_

Flack glanced at Mac, _'__Yo__... Mac... __start__ talking... what's going on with you?'_

"He's not the killer," Mac said, getting out of his chair. He desperately needed to get out and find a quiet place to think, "Cut him loose."

Flack frowned, "What? How do you know?"

Mac snapped back, "Just cut him loose, Don. He's innocent." He looked back at a surprised Mohinder, "Don't leave town..."

Flack hesitated, then nodded at Mohinder, "You can go..."

When Mohinder left, Flack turned to Mac, "What was that about? How do you know he's innocent?"

Mac pushed past Flack and muttered, "Later, Don..."

Flack sighed in frustration. This kind of behaviour was what got him in trouble with Gerrard and Sinclair in the first place. Now here it is again...

His stomach rumbled. For some reason, the image of a nice, raw steak appealed to him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mohinder walked as fast as he could out of the building. He did not know what was up with that Detective Taylor, but he was thankful anyway.

He walked down the busy street, thinking that the whole trip to Devons' apartment was a total waste. Then, he bumped right into Stella Bonasera.

"You!" Stella said.

Mohinder muttered nervously, "Hi... I hope you're not going to arrest me... been there, done that..."

"It's not that. I need to talk to you. _We_ need to talk to you..." Stella replied.

Mohinder suddenly realized there was someone else with her, a guy with brownish hair and glasses.

"Oh... ok..." Mohinder nodded. Judging from Stella's serious expression, it seems like she had a change of heart over night, "Let's go..."

The trio did not notice a man dressed in complete black trailing them from behind.


	7. Lizards

Disclaimer: Not mine, never have been, never will be.

Alright, results anticipation is over, now it's time to return to school... ergo, I won't get to update this as often that I'll like to. I'll finish this, no doubt, just not that quickly. p

_Chapter 7_

_Sometimes questions are more powerful than answers. How is t__his happening? What are they? __Why them and not others? Why now? What does it all mean?_

Danny had never paid so much attention to words printed in a book before, not even when he was cramming for his History final back in high school.

Yet, here he was, his body occupying the entire length of his couch, the replay of last night's Mets game on mute, and Chandra Suresh's 'Activating Evolution' propped open, balanced on is chest. One hand supported the book upright while the other guided the soda can to his lips every so often.

Danny wasn't exactly sure how he felt. Just a couple of hours ago, he had met the son of the author of this book with Stella. Mohinder Suresh's eyes had widened in awe when Danny showed him his fire-in-glass 'trick'.

_"My God... that is amazing..." _Mohinder had muttered, his wonder accentuated by his Indian accent.

Just when he thought it might end at that, Mohinder began talking about Sylar, the first man his father had sought out about these abilities, whose greed overpowered him and how he was now on the hunt for more special people to obtain their powers. At that point, the vivid image of the dead bodies with their skulls sliced open entered Danny's mind and he had suppressed a shudder.

Stella and Danny had left Mohinder's place with his dire warnings ringing in their ears. What's more, they now had their killer but no way to catch him, that is, if the whole of NYPD would believe them in the first place.

Since he got back home, he had been reading the various chapters of the book like 'The Human Genome Project' (which presented Chandra Suresh's theory about human evolution, how powers in blessed individuals manifest at different times), 'Telekinesis' (moving things with one's mind), 'Human flight' (Danny imagined seeing a man weaving in and out past New York's skyscrapers) and 'Spontaneous Tissue Regeneration' (supposedly if one were to cut their finger off, it'll just grow back...).

Once upon a happier time, Danny would have laughed at this whole thing and merely read the book for comic relief. But since he was spouting flames and ice in glasses at will, he was forced to resign to the fact that all this was real.

He flipped past the last page of Chapter Nine, Telepathy, and sat up straight. Chapter 10 was entitled, 'Control and Manipulation of the Elements'. Nudging his glasses further up his nose with a knuckle, he read the introduction.

_Fire, water, earth and air... Highly useful but highly destructive at times, these wild forces of nature have yet to be tamed by Man. __Fantasy books and TV shows have displayed characters with the ability to summon these forces at will, to bring forth elements out of nothingness. Are these stories just the fruits of vivid imaginations, or can it actually be possible?_

_I do not believe in the fantasy abilities where one is able to produce fire in the palm of one's hand out of nothing. _

_I__ however__ do believe in the scientific abilities where one is able to convert elements from one state to another, just like I have mentioned in Chapter Four: Manipulation of Matter. __Like all other abilities, I believe that there could be an individual, or even several individuals out there who carries that specific variation in their DNA that allows them to bend and shape molecules and atoms with brain power alone__. Simply put, they can make water molecules slow down enough to become__ ice,__ speed it up into air, __convert__ air into__ fire and so on._

_So yes indeed, fire can be produced on the palm of one's hand, but not out of __nothing like many comic books show;__ rather, out of the ready made element__s that are all around us._

The pages continue, with more about molecular structure, information on elements and specific areas of the brain.

So, that's what he was doing... changing an element to another.

_Slow down water molecules into ice, speed __the same __molecules into air, convert air into fire..._

Danny raised his left hand, palm up. Air was everywhere... so that must mean...

He stared at the space above his empty palm. _Air..._

_Fire..._

Then, to his shock, a ball of flames appeared, hovering inches above his palm. It was just like the movies... which was it? X-men? Maybe...

_'__This is so cool...__' _thought Danny as he stared at the crackling, graceful flames. According to chapter one, these special abilities are rare... one among hundreds of thousands... But seeing that Stella had abilities too, and all those five victims, and Sylar... maybe it wasn't as rare as Chandra Suresh thought it was.

Danny wondered how many others had these abilities as well. How do they react? What do they do?

A knock on the door made him jump. Panicking slightly, he lost his head on how to get rid of the flames for a moment. Right hand on the door knob, he thought, 'Air!' and thankfully the ball of flames disappeared, his left palm a raw red.

He pulled open the door and there stood Lindsay, smiling brightly.

"Montana! Oh... hey..." said Danny, his left palm still feeling warmer than average thanks to the flames.

She stepped in and said, "Missed you today..." before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a deep kiss. That was true, Danny and Stella had left the lab early to meet up with Mohinder and he came home straight after that, reading the evening away.

"Yeah... uh... had some stuff to take care of..." Once again, Danny was left with the dilemma, to tell or not to tell? Knowing Lindsay, she'll probably handle this whole 'fire' thing quite well, but at the same time, he wasn't sure if he should tell her.

All the same, he missed her a lot as well, and this close contact with her felt really good after the weirdness overdrive he'd been through the last couple of days. He kissed her back, forgetting about his left hand and placing it gently on her cheek.

Lindsay immediately jumped away, "Ow! Geez, Danny... you're hot..."

_Whoops. _But heck, Danny Messer knew his way around these kinds of things, "Really? I'm glad you think so, Montana..." leaning in and trailing kisses up her neck, hoping she'll drop it.

"No, seriously, are you ok?" Lindsay asked, placing a hand on his forehead, "You look tired..."

Danny knew that he would probably have to tell her about his abilities one day, especially with a manic killer on the prowl, but not tonight. Her warmth, her scent, her touch... they made him feel a lot more alive than he had been the past two weeks and suddenly little else mattered right now, not even the fact that his life was no longer as normal as he'll like it to be.

"Don't worry 'bout it... I'm fine, Montana..." he muttered as he guided her to his bedroom. Thunder rumbled outside and rain started poring down.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Hey, doc. How's it going?" Flack said, slapping Hawkes on the back as he settled down into the chair beside him at the bar and ordered himself a beer. It had started raining the moment he stepped into the bar.

On close inspection, Hawkes looked horrible... like he hadn't slept in days. But upon looking at Flack, he strangely seemed to brighten up, "Hey... where's Danny?"

Usually it was the three of them, hanging around at the bar after shift. Flack snorted, "Haven't seen him all day... besides, he's got his Montana now to occupy his time. Don't need us anymore..."

Hawkes cracked a smile, "Yeah..."

"You sure you're ok? No offence, but, you look like something the cat dragged in..." Flack asked good-humouredly.

Hawkes shrugged, "I dunno, man... a lot has been going through my mind lately..."

"Anything you want to talk about?" Flack asked, sipping his beer, "This serial killing case draining you out?"

"Um, yeah... maybe..." Hawkes muttered. _Hmm... Can stress turn me into a human__-emotion__ TV aerial_So far, the alcohol he consumed had done its part in numbing out the sudden stabs of raw grief, jubilation, laughter and depression.

"I know what you mean. Everyone seems more stressed out lately. Why, just this morning, Mac was acting a little weird too... like he was hearing things, you know?" While saying that, Flack tried to ignore the fact that that had happened to him very recently as well.

_'I need to go home...'_thought Hawkes numbly as he felt content feelings turning into slight puzzlement. Was that Flack? Hawkes couldn't tell anymore, "You know what, I gotta get going. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Alright. Bye, doc," Flack nodded, wondering what in the world was troubling Hawkes.

The rain wasn't showing any signs of letting up anytime soon. Flack stayed in the bar, finishing his beer and chatting with the barman. About an hour later, the rain had slowed down to a light drizzle.

He decided to head home as well, his apartment was no more than a few blocks from here. The roads were wet and huge puddles gathered at the curbs. Flack walked briskly down the street, his thoughts ranging from the serial murders to Mac and Hawkes as well as to himself. How was it that he heard what Mac and Gerrard were saying, when they were so far away from him?

He was walking past the electronics store now. Various television sets lined up at the display window, all turned to the same channel, promoting each sets' screen clarity. A documentary was showing now. Flack stopped in his steps to watch a lizard-like creature in a swamp area.

Then, to his amusement, the lizard headed out towards the waters, not swimming into it, but _walking_ on top of the water surface. After several hurried steps across the water, it disappeared with a splash.

Flack walked on, eager to get home now that the drizzle seemed to be getting heavier. He reached the end of the street and cursed inwardly. Separating him from the street across was a big puddle, thanks to the rain and overflowed drainage system.

He scowled to himself. He just bought his shoes a few days ago. Now they're gonna get soaked. Sighing to himself, and wishing that he could walk on water like that lizard, he put a foot gingerly out of the curb and towards the puddle.

His shoe did not get wet.

Flack stared. He was standing right on the water surface. The puddle was surely much deeper than this... hesitating for a moment; he walked quickly to the street opposite. Amazingly, his shoes didn't get wet. Just like that lizard (not to mention, just like Jesus Christ...), he had walked on water...

Flack did not look left nor right and merely sped all the way home.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Don Flack slammed the door shut, breathing heavily. Immediately he headed to the shower and stood under the steady stream of water, confused thoughts raging through him.

What the hell was going on with him? He sees a lizard walk across water, and one moment later, he did the same thing!

Was he doing a Peter Parker? Had he been bitten by a radioactive lizard some time ago? No... He stared down at his fingertips, almost expecting to see tiny, sticky pads that would enable him to climb on walls. Nothing...

Heart thumping madly, Flack took a deep breath and ducked his head under the shower stream. He vaguely remembered someone telling him once, 'Go soak yer' head, Flack!' It's quite good advice, now he thought about it.

Why was this happening? What about yesterday, when all sound around him dimmed, and he could hear words that were spoken a good mile away? Or that basketball game so many years ago, that kid he played against actually broke a couple of ribs when Flack slammed into him... the cat-like growl... lizards...

Was he turning into an animal? Now that's just stupid. That's impossible... He wasn't as science savvy as his colleagues, but even they would tell him that he was probably going insane.

Mac, asking that Indian guy strange questions... and how panicked Mac looked afterwards. Mac never looked panicked. What about Hawkes? He looked completely drained and tired... why? Come to think of it, Danny hadn't been much of his usual bright-wise-ass self all week.

Were they all going through the same things as he was? Were strange things happening to them too?

Flack continued standing there, the water raining down on his head. He lost track of time. His head buzzed with answerless questions.

He felt a dull ache in his chest. He stood still, concentrating on the pain. It felt like it was coming from his lungs...

Then it hit him. He pulled his head out of the shower of water and inhaled. Instantly he felt better as oxygen entered his lungs. Then, panic hit him again. Was he holding his breath this whole time? But it must have been over five minutes... a normal human being would be dead if he held his breath that long...

Flack climbed out of the shower. Great... he had held his breath for nearly 10 minutes without realizing it. Was he turning into a dolphin or a whale as well?

Normal... Don Flack had that creepy feeling that he was no longer normal...

----------------------

Ok, I was wrong about my Lindsay coming up calculations. Her power will definitely be next chapter.

And all credit for Flack's power manifestations in this chapter must go to my good ol' plotting buddy, Jess. Thanks for all the help.

The lizard Flack sees on TV is a Basilisk. Go check it out on Wikipedia. )

Thanks, and leave a review!


	8. Missing Control

Disclaimer: CSI NY and Heroes don't belong to me. Not now, not ever.

_Chapter 8_

_They thought they were like everyone else... until they woke with incredible powers._

Lindsay Monroe woke up with a start. The room was dark save for the soft moonlight entering through the window. She turned slowly to her left towards the digital clock she knew Danny kept on his bedside table. The illuminated red dials read 4.35 am.

Lindsay sighed, thankful that it was hours before she had to get up for work. She rolled over to her right instead, ready to drift off back to sleep. Beside her, Danny was lying on his back, the moon casting enough light into the room for Lindsay to make out his face, peacefully asleep.

She cuddled up closer to him, inhaling his pleasant scent. Her head rested on his shoulder and she placed her arm gently across his chest.

Only, her arm didn't appear to be there.

Lindsay stared. She lay perfectly still, though her heart started pumping madly.

She could feel her arm, that's for sure. She could feel her skin in contact with Danny's. She could feel her arm gently rising and falling according to Danny's breathing. She could even feel the steady pumping of his heart underneath her touch.

And yet, she couldn't see her arm.

She sat up straight, holding the blanket to her chest, staring at the empty space that her arm should be occupying. Her other arm was still there. Every other part of her was still visible. She felt herself clenching and unclenching her hand. It was there alright, she just couldn't see it...

"Danny..." she muttered softly. He did not stir.

"Danny, wake up..." she said, louder. Danny still slumbered on.

"Danny!" Lindsay called out, her voice shaky.

"Mmrrghh..." came the muffled reply, "Lindsay? What's wrong?" Danny asked, he sat up and squinted in her direction.

Then, her arm reappeared, looking perfectly normal. "Uh... I..." Lindsay stuttered.

Danny, whose glasses weren't on, missed the whole thing. He asked again, "What's wrong? You alright?"

"Um... no... I'm fine..." she said softly, still staring at her arm.

"You sure?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah... yeah... I'm ok. It's nothing... sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep..." she replied.

Danny remained still, concern etched all over his face.

"It's nothing... go back to sleep..." she said, trying to sound completely convincing. She pressed a light kiss to his lips and settled down back onto her pillow. After a moment, Danny followed.

Lindsay lay wide awake for a long time. The longer she thought about what had happened, the more confused she got. Was it a dream? Was she imagining things? Did it really happen?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"No Sylars is any database..." announced Danny as he entered the office, after looking around to ensure only Stella was in there.

He settled down into his own chair and said, "But then, it was a long shot anyway. This name is more than likely a pseudonym anyway... but, I did find this..." he passed her a file, "There is a company here in New York called Sylar that manufactures watches... he could have called himself 'Sylar' because he had some connection to this place... but, who knows?"

Stella nodded, looking through the file, "It's one of those 'could mean nothing, could mean everything' kind of evidence, isn't it?" She hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "You didn't mention this to anyone did you?"

Danny gave her a tired smile, "Did everything myself. And it wasn't easy. Had to pay Adam to run down the street to get me lunch, just to get him outta the way so I could use the computer..."

Stella nodded again, with a light smile. She and Danny had been running their own leads in the case without the rest of the team's knowledge. They devoted whatever free time they had tracking down Sylar but so far they came up empty. Not that they had the chance to try very hard, what with team members and lab techs popping up to see what they were up to every so often.

Stella took out a small piece of paper and a pen and started copying down an address, "I think I'm going to go and give his apartment a look..."

Mohinder had told them about Sylar's apartment, where there was a shrine-like room filled with words of apology and repent on the walls and a map very much like the one Mohinder himself had. He had also mentioned the incident where he called the police to the place, only to find it emptied out.

Stella realized she might be chasing another dead end but she was going to try her luck anyway.

No sooner had she raised the pen in her hand, it snapped in half, thick blue ink spilling over her hands. Stella let out a growl of frustration and said to Danny, "Maybe you better write this..."

Danny copied down the address, while giving Stella a wary look. No doubt about it, she was seething, but trying to hide it. When he handed her the paper, he said quietly, "Stel... you'll get the hang of it... it just takes awhile..."

At his words, Stella suddenly felt hot tears gather in her eyes. She turned away, ashamed. She did not want Danny to see this moment of weakness. She was Stella Bonasera... long regarded as the pillar of strength among her co-workers. She hated not being able to hold things without breaking them. She hated the fact that she was scared... scared of what's happening to her. Scared of what will happen should Sylar ever catch up with her or Danny. Scared, just like when she thought Frankie was going to kill her. Just like when she thought she was infected with HIV. Just like when Danny and Adam were being held hostage in one place, and she and Mac were stuck with a group of armed mobsters in another...

"Why, Danny?" she asked, "Why us? Why can't we just be normal?"

Danny gave her a small smile, "Why be normal when we can be special?"

Stella shook her head, "I want to be normal... I want to be able to drink from a cup... to be able to write... to just hold things normally again..." She had wanted to voice this out for a quite awhile.

"You can, Stel. Just... be real gentle," Danny said, grinning, "Besides, you're looking at the bad side of things... where's the 'always-cup-half-full' Stella that I know? Imagine what you can do with this; save runaway buses, hold up broken bridges and buildings..."

"Danny, you read way too many super hero comics..." Stella said, laughing. She wiped her eyes, "Yeah... I guess you're right. But in the mean time while I wait for a falling bridge, you are going to have to write my case reports for me..." She got up to grab her jacket.

Danny smiled for a moment then he turned serious, "You goin' to the apartment alone? I'll come with you..."

Stella shook her head, "I'll just be taking a quick look around the place. You cover for me here..."

"I dunno, Stel... what if Sylar's there?" Danny asked uncertainly.

Stella had the same worries but she brushed them aside. Danny's support had made her feel better. As much as she didn't like this whole 'powers' thing, it was here to stay, so Stella felt it better to suck it up and take care of the dangers rather than sit around moaning, waiting for Sylar to finish her off, "Well... I have super strength, don't I?"

"Stella..."

"Just kidding. Mohinder said the place had been abandoned... completely emptied. Sylar won't go back there. I'm just going to see if there's anything he missed," Stella said, trying to convince herself as much as Danny, "Cover for me..."

Danny surrendered with a nod, "Careful..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Danny was once again alone in the office, going through files. Who is Sylar? Where is he now? Danny was now looking through the Sylar watch company employee list as well as the shops they distributed merchandise to. Yet another long shot, but he had gotten lucky chasing down long shots before...

He looked up just in time to see Lindsay passing by, heading towards the labs. Danny did a double take. Where were her legs?

_'Stupid question...'_ Danny immediately thought. But for the briefest moment, he could have sworn it was just Lindsay's upper body that was well... floating along the corridor.

Danny got up and poked his head out into the corridor. He could see Lindsay still walking down the corridor, both legs accounted for. Shaking his head, Danny headed back in. He was imagining things again... just like when he mistook a passing lab tech for Lindsay. But that was when Lindsay was in Montana. What excuse did he have this time?

He was seeing things... no doubt about it.

Just as he headed back to his desk, Mac came in asking, "Danny. How's it going on the background checks on the victims?"

Danny jumped slightly and immediately started clearing the open files on his desk, "Background checks?"

_"Shit... what background checks?"_ came Danny's voice, loud and clear in Mac's own head.

Mac noticed Danny closing files in an extremely casual manner, "Oh! Right... the victims... uh..." Danny pulled another stack off the corner of his desk and said, "Here... I found nothing. Not so much as a gym club membership in common..."

Danny was acting as jittery as Adam was during his first week on the job... Mac decided to ignore it for awhile. He had something more important right now, "I need you to do another background check... a Dr. Mohinder-"

_"Suresh?"_

Mac frowned, "How do you know?"

"What?"

Mac paused, puzzled. Then he realized that it was Danny's mind speaking again. All the same, Danny knew the name for some reason...

"You know the name, Danny?"

_"Play dumb..."_ was Danny's hurried thought.

"No..." said Danny, with an air of curiosity,_"__Geez, __Mac__ looks like he's__ trying to__ read my mind...__ play cool...__ straight face...__"_

"Why do you need a background check on this Mohinder guy, anyway? He involved in the case somehow?" Danny asked, _"That__'s__ right...__be__ casual..."_

Before Mac could answer, there was an onslaught of thoughts drilling into his head.

_"Mohinder Suresh... Chandra Suresh... genetics... fire... Stella... Sylar... Sylar..."_

Sylar? Mohinder Suresh mentioned that name too. Oh wait, no. He thought that name.

"Danny, who is Sylar?" Mac demanded.

_"What? He knows?"_

"Yes, I know, Danny. Who is he?"

Danny held out both palms in a 'woah there' gesture, "Hold it! Rewind! I-I didn't say anything!"

"I know, Danny. But you thought it..." Mac said.

"What?" Danny asked, completely perplexed.

Mac took a deep breath. He had to get answers, answers that his own team was hiding from him. So what the hell... "Yeah... I can hear them."

_"Hear them? He can hear my thoughts?"_

"Yeah. I can..."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Danny, "Woah..." He shrugged, "That, is pretty cool... ironic... but cool..."

"Ironic?" asked Mac.

"Yeah, I mean you're the science guy... evidence, logic, science... then, boom, you're..." Danny stopped talking but, Mac could hear his thoughts, _"You're one of us..."_

"One of us?" Mac asked.

"Whoops. Right. You heard that..." Danny muttered. He glanced around as if to make sure no one else was listening in, "Alright, here's what's happening..."

And so on it went. Danny brought Mac up to date on everything: Mohinder Suresh, the Human Genome Project and Sylar. After he had finished, Mac felt another migraine coming on.

"This is crazy..." Mac muttered. He had been through hundreds of cases. Easy cases, haunting cases, sick murderers that kept him awake at night. This was by far the worse. Danny was right. Science, logic, evidence... all these things that Mac had stood steadfastly by all these years were now being compromised... twisted into a shape Mac couldn't comprehend.

"So the man behind these murders is Sylar?" Mac asked, "But he's got abilities unlike any other suspect, and we can't track him down like any other suspect..."

Danny smiled, "You're forgetting... we have abilities too..."

"We? You and I?" asked Mac.

"And Stella," added Danny.

Mac never thought that in his entire life, he'd be asking this, "What powers do you have?"

Danny held out a fist and opened it. A ball of flame appeared, hot and crackling...

"Fire?" Mac asked in wonder.

"And air, water and earth too... but I'm not really sure how those work just yet..." Danny said, trying hard to keep his tone casual like he showed his boss these kinds of things everyday.

"And Stella?"

Danny flashed his trademark grin, "She's got super strength."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The figure dressed from head to toe in black stood in the shadows. He stayed completely still, watching the beautiful Greek woman open the door into his old apartment.

He heard her curse as the metal doorknob bent into a strange shape under her grip. _Super strength..._

Such a pity he had to kill her. He could tell she was a beautiful person. Brave, intelligent... strong even without her enhanced strength.

But how could he resist when the prey enters so easily, so willingly, into the lion's den?

He could feel his heart pounding loudly. Power...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hawkes walked into the office, which was deserted. Danny's desk looked like the owner would be back in a moment. Files lay open, a cup of coffee stood close by.

Hawkes walked over to his own desk. He got a glance at one of the open files.

_Sylar..._

A ravenous excitement filled Hawkes immediately. _Prey... power... kill..._

Hawkes struggled with his thoughts. What the hell was going on? But Sheldon Hawkes was ebbing away. Whoever this Sylar person is, his emotions are taking over Hawkes' with ease.

_Attack... blood... power..._

"Yo, doc," came a voice.

_'__No! This isn't you!__' _a voice so far away.

_Attack... power...__kill..._

Before he knew it, Danny Messer was pinned down onto the office floor, Sheldon Hawkes holding him down, murder in his eyes...


	9. Revelations

Disclaimer: CSI NY characters not mine. Sylar not mine. Mohinder's words at the beginning not mine.

Heh. Yeah. This story is still alive. No worries. I intend to follow this to the end. I hope you will too.

Happy Birthday, plotting-buddy, Jessica. Consider this your birthday gift. Other than the Dresden book. :-)

Enjoy!

_Chapter 9_

_When evolution selects its agents, it does so at a cost, makes demands in exchange for singularity and you may be asked to do something against your very nature._

_ Suddenly the change in your life that should have been wonderful comes as a betrayal. _

Hawkes kept an amazingly strong pincer-like grip on Danny's wrists, pinning him down on the floor.

"Hawkes!" gasped Danny, "What the hell are you doin'?!"

Hawkes did not reply. His eyes looked strangely detached... like he was far away. "Power..." he moaned.

"What?" Danny asked, heart thumping wildly. How did Hawkes know? And why was he attacking him?

Danny had long since learnt that rational thoughts were no longer an option. Hawkes was acting like he was possessed.

"Power... kill..." Hawkes muttered hungrily.

_'Uh-oh...' _thought Danny. Hawkes released his grip on one of Danny's wrists and placed his hand on Danny's neck, pressing hard against his windpipe.

"Hawkes!" Danny struggled for breath but he felt his consciousness slipping away, "Hawkes! Get OFF!!"

With that, a blast of air seemed to have formed between them, pushing forcefully into Hawkes, sending him flying off Danny and crashing into his own desk, sending files crashing to the floor.

Danny got up quickly. Although shaken, he felt amazed. _Air_... he did it...

He approached the groaning Hawkes cautiously, braced for another attack. But Hawkes merely grunted softly, a hand rubbing his chest, "What was that, Danny?"

"I could ask you the same question..." Danny muttered, still keeping a safe distance away from Hawkes, "You attacked me. And you were goin' on about power and killing and who knows what else..."

Hawkes stared at Danny for a moment and then placed a hand on his head, slumping down onto his chair. The sensation was all too familiar. Thoughts that weren't his own but forced into his mind... This time was the worst. He recalled the greed... the anger... Hawkes shook a little. He had felt the mind of a murderer. And it was so strong that it nearly made him a murderer himself.

"I'm going crazy..." he mumbled. He looked up at Danny and said, "I mean, really crazy. Psycho crazy... fit for an asylum crazy..."

Hawkes took a deep breath and plunged on, "Whenever I think of someone, I can feel what they're feeling... it's been going on for days now..."

Danny's eyes widened, "Get outta here..." Could it be that Hawkes was yet another one with powers?

Hawkes mistook Danny's reaction for scepticism, "Yeah, yeah... the doc's going nuts. I get it. You don't believe me..." At that same moment, his mind cast unintentionally on the last name he read on paper. _Sylar..._

With a growl, Hawkes shot out of his seat and lunged for Danny again. He slammed Danny forcefully against the wall, liking nothing better to slice his head open... to taste blood... to taste power...

"GEEZ HAWKES! I BELIEVE YOU, DAMNIT!!" Danny cried out.

_Danny..._ Hawkes suddenly felt panicked... confused... His lungs struggled for air. Suddenly making sense of his emotions, he let go of Danny. Immediately he felt better.

_Hawkes... Hawkes... Hawkes... _Hawkes kept repeating in his mind. He had to stay as he was. He mustn't think of anyone else. _I am Sheldon Hawkes..._He sat down again, holding his head in his hands. Not having control of his own actions was mind-numbingly scary.

"So let me get this straight, you just have to think of a name and you can feel what they're feeling?" Danny asked, trying to ignore the fact that Hawkes attempted murder twice in five minutes.

Hawkes nodded. Danny said, "Incredible... you're like... a television aerial, except that it's human beings..."

Hawkes looked up curiously, how could Danny accept it so easily? Hawkes himself spent days wondering if he had a tumour or excessive hormones or something in that area.

"Wait a minute... then who were you thinking of just now?" Danny asked curiously. Almost immediately, he added, "No, no, no... Don't say it. Uh..."

Hawkes didn't have to be told twice. His name was going on like a mantra in his mind. He was actually sweating from all this concentration. He pointed towards the file he saw earlier on Danny's desk.

Danny picked it up and felt his stomach twist uncomfortably. If Sylar was in a murderous state, that could only mean he was collecting yet another victim right now.

Then, his stomach did a double twist. _Stella._

He grabbed his jacket and turned to leave. Before that, he took 'Activating Evolution' from his desk and tossed it to Hawkes, "Here. This might clear up a few things..." he muttered.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lindsay knocked on Mac's office door, case file in hand. Mac looked up from his computer and nodded for her to come in. At the same time, he quickly closed the web page holding information on Dr. Chandra Suresh.

"Hey Mac, I just closed the case on the bodega robbery that happened a couple of days ago. Here's the paper work," she handed him the file.

Mac offered her a smile, "Good work, Lindsay."

_'Should I ask him?'_

She sounded worried. Mac asked, "Something wrong?"

"Oh... no... Nothing's wrong..." her voice trailed away hesitantly, _'Am I __being __that obvious? Oh wait, no... This is Mac... he just knows these kinds of things...__ it's like he can read minds sometimes...__'_

Mac had to hold back a smile. _'You have no idea...'_

"Actually, yeah. I wanted to ask you something. Have you ever seen things that you think just can't happen?" she asked cautiously.

Mac considered the question, "Sure, there are some things... the kinds of crime scenes we see, the murderers we meet..."

"No, not something like that... more like, have you seen things happening to you or some part of you..." she shook her head, "We hear stories of people seeing things that aren't there... what about... not seeing things that _should_ be there?"

_'Good grief... I'm babbling like an idiot...'_

"Like?" Mac asked, quite concerned.

At that very moment, Mac saw something that made him understand completely what Lindsay was trying to say.

Before his very eyes, Lindsay's face started disappearing. Her short brown hair hovered in mid-air like a wig. But he could still hear her, "You know what, forget it... I'm just tired I guess... not thinking right..."

She waved her hand dismissively. Or she must have waved her hand, because all Mac saw was the sleeve of the lab coat she was wearing rise upwards, moving vaguely.

_'Why is he looking at me like that?'_

Mac realized he was near gawking. And it was clear Lindsay had no idea what was happening. Yeah well, he couldn't just let her walk out of his office like that, scaring all the lab techs.

"Um, Lindsay?"

"Yeah?"

"You might want to take a look at your hand..." he muttered.

"What?" she asked, puzzled. Mac watched as the lab coat sleeve went up to face level and waited a few long seconds.

Not a word came out of Lindsay, but in her head, she clearly screamed, causing Mac to wince.

"Ohmigod... ohmigod..." Lindsay mumbled weakly. Then, she caught her reflection on the window. And she really screamed.

"Lindsay, Lindsay... calm down... it's ok..."

Mac's door swished open at that moment and in walked Danny, "Mac! I think Sylar's got Stella. I tried calling her cell phone, but she's not- ARGH!"

He stopped short, staring at the headless, handless body in front of him. Lindsay started sobbing.

"Lindsay?" Danny asked, his voice weak.

"What's happening?" Lindsay asked frantically, "I'm-I'm d-disappearing?"

Danny immediately pulled her close into a tight hug. Needless to say, it looked really strange, "It's ok... it's ok... don't worry. You're here... I can feel you..."

Mac said in amazement, "She's turning invisible..."

At that moment, Lindsay suddenly reappeared, her face buried in Danny's shoulder. A second later, her right leg disappeared from view, then back again.

"You mean she can _turn_ invisible..." Danny said. _'And the surprises keep on coming...'_

Mac said aloud, "Tell me about it..."

"Lindsay, it's ok. Calm down... this isn't a bad thing..." Danny said comfortingly.

"You think?" she asked, incredulous.

He smiled a little, "I know... trust me..."

Mac suddenly remembered why Danny came in here in the first place, "Danny... what about Stella?"

"Oh right!" Danny said quickly, "To make a long story short, we've got to get to Stella, right now."

"She's at Sylar's old apartment?"

"Yeah... I think he's after her..."

Mac reached for his cell phone, "I'll call Flack to get a squad together," he said, "We'll meet them there."

He could hear Lindsay's confused thoughts, "We'll explain everything. In a while..." Mac said.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Mac and Danny met up with Flack and his team outside the apartment door, guns out. Lindsay had to stay in the lab just in case she started flickering (for want of a better word) on and off again. The door knob was bent out of shape and Flack muttered, "What the hell did that?"

Mac and Danny were both thinking at the same time, _'Stella...'_

Flack turned to his team, "Careful guys, this could be our serial killer right here." Mac had told him that much but kept the rest of the information quiet. He knew Flack had several questions but thankfully he decided to wait until after they got Stella safe.

Flack nodded at one of his officers, who yanked the door open. After a nerve-wrecking sweep of the apartment, they came up empty. The room was just as bare as Sylar left it. There was no trace that Stella had been in there, or that Sylar had caught her.

Danny's hands shook slightly as he gripped his gun. He remembered how vicious Hawkes had looked and he knew that Sylar will hold no mercy if he wanted Stella's power. He prayed hard that her super strength played a high advantage for her.

"Damn it... where is she?" Mac muttered furiously.

_Where is she? _Flack felt a curious sensation come over him. He took a deep breath. He could smell hundreds of different scents. Musky, sweet, salty, woody... all the scents jumped at his senses one after another. He could tell where each smell was coming from. The plaster walls of the apartment... the sausage-like breath of one of the cops... various types of soaps and colognes...

Then, he smelt her. Stella. He picked up a sweet, tangy sort of scent and he just knew it was her. It was faint, but there alright. He walked out of the apartment, went down the corridor, down the stairs. He ignored the rest of them when they called out his name.

The scent was getting stronger. He could detect another scent as well. Sweaty... powerful... dangerous...

Back at the apartment, Danny glanced at Mac, "What?" he asked softly.

Mac frowned, "I could hear his thoughts... they didn't feel human... I don't get it..."

"We should follow..." Danny muttered.

Mac nodded in agreement and they headed off after Flack, leaving the confused cops behind.

Flack headed further and further down the stairs, following Stella's scent, which was steadily getting stronger. He knew Mac and Danny were close behind him. He recognized their scents as well, Mac's neat and strong scent and Danny's cool, street smell.

Somewhere at the corner of his mind, Flack wondered where his thoughts were coming from. Those adjectives just come so easily to him. Instinct... Never before had he thought that he'll ever be describing and interpreting smells...

They were getting near the basement. Flack came to a stop at the top of the stairs leading into the basement, quickly followed by Mac and Danny. That's when they heard it. A loud crash. A yell. A scream.

The three men shared fearful but determined glances at each other and headed down.


	10. Deal or No Deal

Disclaimer: CSI NY characters, Mohinder and Sylar are not mine.

Heh. I got this up faster than I thought I would... enjoy!

_Chapter 10_

_We all imagine ourselves the agents of our destiny, capable of determining our own fate. But have we truly any choice in when we rise? Or when we fall? Or does a force larger than ourselves bid us our direction? Is it evolution that takes us by the hand? Does science point our way? Or is it God who intervenes, keeping us safe?_

"Hold it right there! NYPD!" Flack yelled, aiming his gun at the first flash of movement he saw. A man turned in his direction dressed in black all over. A dark cap hid his face from sight. The fact that the basement was lighted with only one pathetic white florescent lamp overhead didn't help matters.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Stella lying on the floor, groaning. Flack heaved a sigh of relief... she was alive.

The relief was short-lived however. The next thing he knew, his gun flew out of his hands and onto the floor, a good long way away from him, like some giant magnet pulled it away from him. The same happened to Mac and Danny's guns a second later, and joined Flack's gun with two loud clatters.

Stella let out a shout of warning, "Guys! Look out!"

Flack felt like he had been kicked in the chest. By the Incredible Hulk. He felt himself leave the ground and colliding painfully against the wall behind him. After collapsing painfully onto the floor like a rag doll, the dark figure turned to Mac.

Before Mac could defend himself, he too went flying against the wall. Only, he didn't drop down. It was as if Mac had been caught in an invisible spider web, his arms spread open on opposite sides like an impromptu Vitruvian Man.

Panic sliced through Flack like an icy knife. How the hell was this possible? A suspect with 'magic' powers. Was this an illusion of sorts? Maybe this guy will suddenly take off his cap and shout "Surprise!" and this would turn out to be some glorified police test?

No such luck. The guy turned to Danny instead.

At that moment, Mac yelled, "Danny! Gun!"

Sure enough, one of their guns flew upwards by itself and flew into the dark figure's hand. He levelled it right at Danny's chest.

Danny stood still, his face looking quite blank. He was defenceless but at the same time, he didn't want to run, leaving he rest of them there.

The man tilted his head to the side, clearly in a mocking manner. He squeezed the trigger. Once, twice, three times.

Flack and Stella both let out a useless yell, "Danny!"

Once again, the impossible happened. Danny had raised both hands in a shielding manner in front of him. This would have been pointless under many circumstances, but not right now. A strong blast of bluish air appeared at his palms, shooting outwards.

Flack could feel a sudden windy chill and he ducked reflexively. When he looked up again, the three bullets were suspended in mind-air, inches from Danny's chest. They were coated with (Flack blinked several times to make sure) ice. Danny looked like his knees were about to give way in a moment.

The dark figure, however, strangely decided he no longer wanted to kill them. He made a dash for the stairs and disappeared from sight.

It took Flack a few seconds to get over the shock of the bullet icicles in front of Danny. But something clicked into place in his mind. He had to get the guy. No way was he letting him loose in the city.

_Run..._

Flack climbed up and ran. Round and round the stairs. Within seconds, he could see the dark figure running in front of him. He had caught up. Flack picked up the pace. The cat-like snarl... he heard it again. The suspect was fast, but he was faster.

They ended up on the roof, stories high. The suspect stopped at the very edge and looked back, his face still hidden from view. But his intentions were clear.

"NO! DON'T!" Flack shouted.

Too late. The suspect jumped.

And, like the desperate idiot he was, lost of all rational thought, so did he. Flack only realized it a second too late, when he leaped off the edge. Crap.

He was falling... falling... falling. Soon, he'd just be another victim like all the crime scenes he worked. Splattered on the sidewalk... brain spilled out...

_'No,'_the thought suddenly attacked him. _'Not yet...'_

The traffic sounds of the streets below him made no sound. All he heard was a loud eagle screech and suddenly, his body angled upwards and he was rising up again. Double crap. He was flying. He shot past the roof he fell from, past the roofs of taller buildings all around.

For the first time in his life, Flack was scared witless. He didn't have the slightest idea what to do. _'Ok... I'm alive... I'm flying...'_

Geez... why hadn't he just died when he had the chance? Now he had no idea how to get down.

A stream of images hit him. Lizards... walking on water... whales and dolphins in the sea... cheetahs... birds...

That was it. It didn't make much, if any sense, but Flack finally found an explanation. He could imitate animal abilities when he had need for them. That's what he was doing now. That's what he did when he was 10...

Does that mean that if he stopped thinking like a bird, he'd just fall down?

And just like that, Flack could no longer fight gravity. Down he went, headed fast for the roof of the building he'd just left. It wouldn't be as bad as hitting the road, but there was a good chance he'd lose both his legs... at least.

Several feet above, his strangled yell turned into a cat snarl. His body seemed to turn itself instinctively and he landed on all fours with a loud thump but unhurt.

Flack stood up shakily. He'd just proven a myth... a cat always lands on its feet.

Now he had to try and make sense to all this. Not to mention, the killer got away. Triple crap.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"No... no way... you have got to be kidding me. Impossible..." Mohinder Suresh stared at them with an incredulous look on his face.

It was a little past 3 in the morning. He had woken up to the annoyingly insistent ring of his cell phone and he had driven at top speed all the way to the crime lab. But he didn't feel the least bit sleepy. His heart pumped furiously, excitement flowing all over him.

"Six... six..." he muttered, "I've spent months here and couldn't even find one... now, in one night, there are six!"

He paced the Mac Taylor's office anxiously, "And all of you, working together in the same building. The odds of this happening are astronomical!" Then, as if he hadn't made himself perfectly clear, he said again, "SIX!"

Mac squeezed his throbbing temples with a thumb and his third finger. No one else could hear the chaos he was hearing. Mohinder's giddy, excited thoughts and everyone else's confused, troubled ones pounded like a loud rock concert in his head.

"Blood tests, DNA tests, brain scans... I have to examine all of you. We have to keep you all safe. Your abilities..." Mohinder babbled on.

Mac raised a hand, "We'll have to think about it, Dr. Suresh. This is a lot to take in right now... We don't want to become lab guinea pigs, or..."

Mohinder cut across him, "I know. I agree. No one else should about this right now. It's too dangerous. Especially with Sylar still walking around. But I can help you understand what's going on,"

Mac nodded, "I know, Dr. Suresh. But not tonight. Thank you for coming, thank you for helping us. But right now, we need you to leave."

Mohinder nodded back, "Alright. Call me. First thing tomorrow." He cast one last look around the room, taking in all their faces with an expression of near ecstasy, then left.

Mac's office stayed silent but several different thoughts ravaged in Mac's mind, most of which of course were not his own, "Ok..." he started, perhaps if he started talking, the voices will dim down somewhat, "Let's get this clear... Stella has super strength, Danny can manipulate elements, Lindsay can turn invisible, Flack can imitate animal abilities, Hawkes can feel what other people are feeling when he thinks about them, and... I can read minds..."

When no one responded, he continued, "The killer we have been hunting for all this while is Sylar, who collects powers like ours by eating their brains. As we found out today, he has telekinesis. And probably a whole lot more, seeing that he's killed so many others already,"

He glanced around the dark, empty lab and said, "Enjoy this peace while you can. We have a killer we can't arrest because he doesn't leave any physical evidence behind..."

Danny, who was leaning against the wall to Mac's right where Mac's old photos of his time in the Marines were placed, spoke up wryly, "Even if we arrest him, he'll just probably mutilate all the guards and slice his way out of the jail bars..."

Mac nodded and said, "Also, Gerrard and Sinclair will both be on our asses to get this solved... they want the killer caught. But we can't explain to them who he is. We can't explain to them who we are. Right now, these powers are our secrets. If the wrong people find out, it'll be disastrous."

Flack swayed around in one of the chairs in front of Mac's desk and grinned, "Best case scenario, we'll be sold off to Coney Island and we'll get to entertain a lot of people... worst case scenario..." his grin disappeared, "The public will probably have us burnt at stake like witches in the middle ages..."

Lindsay, who was sharing the couch by the door with Stella asked, "So what _can_ we do?"

Mac paused for a moment, then answered, "Get rid of Sylar. On our own."

Hawkes, who was also sitting in a chair in front of Mac's desk, looked up, "You mean... kill him?"

Mac said gravely, "If we can do that, the murders will stop. Sinclair and Gerrard will just have to drop the case. Another Jack the Ripper... this isn't just any murderer, guys. This is a whole new world none of us are used to. Science no longer applies here. It all boils down to this... kill him, before he kills us," he said, "Out of the billions of people on earth, we are among the few who have been given these special abilities. It's all for a reason. If we have these powers, we should use them,"

"From now on, we have to be on our guard. Sylar's after us. He knew about Stella all along. Today, he'd seen what Danny and Flack can do. We have to keep each other safe,"

They nodded. Mac could tell they were scared. So was he. Then, he sensed something else. Hostility. Anger. He looked in Stella's direction, "Stella?"

Stella looked up and said stonily, "What if I don't want to do this?"

"Do what?" Mac asked.

"I never asked for this. I never asked to have super strength. So why is it that now I have to live my life knowing I have a perpetual bull's eye painted on my back? I don't want this. Why can't things be normal? Why can't we be normal people, with normal jobs, and no psychotic, telekinetic killer after our brains?"

"Stella..."

"No, Mac. If you guys want to run around hunting down Sylar, be my guest. I've narrowly escaped death way too many times already. Today, being the most recent. I'm sick of this. I'm tired. I want this to just end,"

With that, she rushed out of the room, tears in her eyes. Before any of them could react, someone new appeared at the door.

"Stella?" Peyton asked. Stella did not look back and merely headed off towards the lifts.

Peyton turned back to Mac's office and a look of clear confusion appeared on her face, "What's going on?"

Mac asked, "What are you doing here?" Then, perhaps realizing that sounded quite rude, he continued, "It's nearly 4 am..."

Peyton shrugged, "Paperwork. The brass above wanted up-to-date reports on the serial killing victims. Is that why you all are here? You've caught a break?"

There was a short pause. Then Danny cleared his throat, "We better get goin', Mac. It's getting late..."

Lindsay, Flack and Hawkes leaped off their seats, Lindsay was saying, "Yeah, yeah. Good night, Mac."

Flack quipped, "Morning, you mean..." And the four of them filed out of the office.

Mac turned back to Peyton, "Well... not exactly..."

"Then? What's going on? Even you don't hold staff meetings at 4 am, Mac..." Peyton said, with an unsure smile.

Mac stayed silent for awhile then said, "I can't talk about it, Peyton... at least, not right now..."

"Is it about the case?"

Mac shook his head, "I'm sorry, Peyton..."

_'Why can't he trust me?'_

"Peyton... it's not that I don't trust you or anything... this is just complicated right now..." Mac muttered.

_'You talk to your team about it... why not me? I want to help you, Mac... I love you...' _

"Ok," she nodded, managing a small smile, "Just remember I'm here, alright... if you need to talk..." She turned and left, clearly hurt.

Mac settled down back into his chair, wondering vaguely how much more bad news there will be before he finally cracks like Stella.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_"I know how things work...__ what makes them 'tick'..."_

He rubbed a sore spot on his chest. That Stella Bonasera might have fractured a couple of his ribs with that punch of hers.

Those three cops that came down after her, he knew they were special. He would have even known it if the one with the glasses hadn't frozen those bullets or the tall one hadn't ran like the wind or flown. He could sense it in their souls. He could hear them. Just like he could hear the ticking of a watch... He could understand them even more than they could understand themselves. Just like clockwork...

Stella Bonasera had a sad past. She did not have the comforts of a family that children are supposed to have. Because of that, she created a hard strong shell to hide behind... a shell that had been very useful for a long time. He smiled to himself. Today, he had cracked that shell. He didn't break it, but he knew he cracked it.

The tall detective... young, but wise nonetheless. He could sense unwavering loyalty towards his friends. And also an unwavering loyalty towards his job. He had a lot to live up to in his past. Up til now, he still had a point to prove...

He smiled to himself. This was a skill he did not pick up from people's brains. This was the power Suresh couldn't seem to find. He almost wished Suresh was still alive so he could just go and rub it in his face...

The one with the glasses. There were many people he cared for. On more than one occasion, he had been hurt by the very same people. He could tell who they were, though he did not know their faces. A blood relation... a best friend... a lover... At the same time, he lived with the fear that he had, or might hurt them in return.

Pity... they all had power... but did not know how to use it to their advantage. He would kill to have such abilities. Oh wait, he smirked to himself, he was doing that already...

The third one had something up his sleeve too. Or else, how could he have known to shout that warning about the gun earlier. Maybe he was psychic... maybe he could read minds... He didn't know for sure. What he did know was that this man had seen a lot. He had lost a lot as well. He worked non-stop... hardly slept a night... rarely accepted offers of comfort from others...

To hell with super strength. At least for now. He had telekinesis. What need did he have to actually make contact with his victims? Just one quick cut and he'd be done. Besides, Stella Bonasera would probably have added safety now and it won't be wise for him to go exposing himself anymore than he did today. He didn't need flight and super speed urgently either. He was already fast and agile enough. He wasn't sure what the older detective could do, so he'd just have to wait and see.

He'd collect them all anyway. Just not now. Prioritize...

_Ice..._Now that was new. And it could be highly useful.

His mind focused on the guy with the glasses. Danny, they called him. He knew where he worked. He knew his strengths. He knew his weaknesses. This was going to be so easy...


	11. Progress

Sorry for the extensive delay. First term exams got in the way. Hope this makes up for it. :-)

Thanks, BenRG for the suggestions on Danny's powers. And of course, thanks Jess, for being willing to discuss this story to such extent with me, especially when we should be studying Moral. XD

_Chapter 11_

_In the beginning there was discovery._

_ A confusion of elements. The first snowfall of impossible change. Old lives undone, left behind. Strange faces, made familiar. New nightmares, to challenge sleep. _

_Only then comes control. The need to impose order unto chaos, through determination, through study, through struggle. All in defiance of a thundering truth. _

_They're here, and the earth shudders underfoot._

"I can't do this!" said Lindsay, letting out a frustrated growl.

"Just keep trying..." consoled Mohinder Suresh, eyes fixed on Lindsay's outstretched arm.

"You try making your arm disappear without knowing exactly how... see how much fun it is..." she muttered.

Danny suppressed a smile. Lindsay rarely got annoyed, but when she did, she became extremely, not to mention amusingly, snappy.

"Ok, how did it happen the first time?" asked Mohinder.

"I don't know. I just woke up and there, my arm was missing... I don't know how..." Lindsay replied with exaggerated patience.

Mohinder frowned thoughtfully, "So right now, there doesn't seem to be any control over your invisibility... it's just... got a mind of its own..."

"Great. Just great. How am I supposed to walk around in public ever again?" she asked desperately, "I'll be like the ghost of an amputation-gone-wrong victim!"

"Technically, I'm quite sure your ability will strengthen over time. Soon, you would be able to make your whole body invisible, and hopefully, have control over it," explained Mohinder.

"But until then?" asked Lindsay.

There was a pause; then Mohinder answered with a smile, "We keep trying..."

Lindsay narrowed her eyes but said nothing.

Hawkes piped up from his perch on Mohinder's couch, "Shouldn't we be getting back to work? People might get suspicious that we're missing..."

Lindsay said, "We can't. Mac said we're to stay out of sight as much as possible, since we're the ones that might cause panic if our powers accidentally 'manifest' in public..." she had made mock apostrophes in the air with her fingers at the word 'manifest', but the fingers on her right hand were missing.

Mohinder nearly fell out of his seat in his eagerness but her fingers reappeared a second later, causing him to visibly deflate in disappointment.

Flack chimed in, "Yeah... _you_ guys. Not me... I don't get why I have to stay here. I can control my powers just fine,"

Mohinder said, "Not really, you only have subconscious control over your powers. You can't seem to be able to obtain animal abilities unless in an extreme situation..."

"Yeah, Flack... you might feel the urge to... um... pass wind... and woe betide the people around you should you accidently take on skunk-like abilities," said Danny with a grin.

"Shut up, ice-cube-boy..."

Danny chuckled then turned to Mohinder, "What about me? Why can't I leave?"

"We're still not sure how far your capabilities with elements go. It's a huge world, with a lot of possibilities. You can't control the abilities that you don't know about, so it's very likely that they'll only make an appearance when you have to use them instinctively," said Mohinder, "Just like how you froze those bullets. You never knew you could do that in the first place,"

"Yeah... I thought I was a goner..." Danny said, attempting humour, but he felt a chill run through his body that had nothing to do with ice. What if he hadn't been able to stop those bullets?

"Simply put, your body knows what you can do... but your brain doesn't know yet," said Mohinder.

Hawkes put in, "Well, I have no complains on being here. Just, as long as everyone in this room stays happy and calm, I'll be ok as well..."

"As long as you don't think of anyone outside these walls too," said Mohinder, "Yours is particularly tricky... you can channel anyone's emotions just by thinking about them, even if you've never met them before, and even if they're far away..."

"I think I better take up meditating or yoga... just to keep my thoughts to myself, literally," muttered Hawkes.

"So Mac's the only one who can still blend in with the... normal human race..." said Danny, "At least until we have better control over this..."

"But Stella, where is she?" asked Hawkes.

"I don't know... no one's heard from her since last night. Or rather, this morning..." said Lindsay, looking worried.

Flack said bracingly, "Stella's tough. She'll be ok. I think she just needs a little time to take this in."

"She's feeling confused... angry... scared..." said Hawkes suddenly, "She's also guilty because she walked out..."

"Where is she?" Lindsay asked.

"I don't know... I just know what she's feeling... not where she is..."

"You know some people will call that invasion of privacy, right?" asked Flack, smiling.

Hawkes gave a small smile in return, "Tell that to Mac."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_'You idiot... why did you do it... why didn't you run when you had the chance... if she finds out, she'll kill you... then Detective Taylor will be investigating you__r death... idiot, idiot, idiot__.'_

_'Urg... I hate night shift. Now my body clock's all screwy...__ gonna go home, and sleep until dinner time...__'_

_'Woah... Detective Taylor's actually asleep at his desk... gotta be a first time for everything, huh...'_

His head felt like lead. It was uncomfortable on his hard desk but he couldn't find the energy to lift himself upright. Mac always had insomniac tendencies and never needed much sleep, but now he wanted nothing to go home and sleep peacefully.

Peace... silence... once upon a time his office had been one such sanctuary where he could get those things. He never realized how much foot traffic there was outside his office until he could hear every single thought that went through the heads of the owners of those feet.

_'Taylor!'_

Mac winced at the sharpness of the voice. His office door swung open and in walked Gerrard.

_'Good grief... he's actually sleeping...'_came an infuriated voice.

Mac sat upright after great effort and muttered, "What..." rubbing his stiff neck.

"I'll tell you 'what', Taylor. What the hell happened yesterday?"

"What are you talking about?"

"What's this I hear from the other officers about Bonasera being kidnapped by the serial killer, and rescued? Word is that only you, Flack and Messer were there. I want to know everything!"

Mac's head started pounding heavily again, "He got away..." he said slowly, "We got into the basement, found Stella and the suspect ran for it..."

"You mean you didn't catch him?"

"He got away..." repeated Mac.

"Why am I only hearing about this today? And where's Bonasera, Flack and Messer? You of all people, Taylor, should know the right procedures! Whatever happened yesterday has to put down in writing!"

_'But then again, maybe there's something more to this... won't be the first time you've violated procedure, would it, Taylor?'_

Mac bit back an angry retort, saying instead "I'll get to it..."

Gerrard narrowed his eyes at Mac, "Something tells me I'm not getting the whole story, Taylor. What happened in that basement? How was he able to get away from three armed cops?"

A new voice chimed in, "You want the whole story, Gerrard? Here it is... I went back to the crime scene to do some follow-up investigation on the serial killings. The suspect grabbed me from behind, knocked me out and took me to the basement. When Mac, Flack and Danny came after me, the suspect threatened to kill me. If they hadn't let him get away, I would be dead. I think that you, of all people, Captain, would know that the safety of fellow officers comes first in this kind of situation. That's what Mac did. After he ran, their first concern was to make sure I was ok. That gave the suspect time to disappear. And by the way, he was dressed completely in black, so we did not get a good look at him at all,"

Stella stopped, looking absolutely determined and calm.

Gerrard stared at her for a moment then turned to Mac, "I'm going to need all your statements. On my desk, as soon as possible," with that, he left the office in a huff but not before Mac caught his parting sentence.

_'If you're not careful, I'll have your badge, Taylor... you and the rest of your team...'_

Mac met Stella's eyes, "You okay?"

She nodded and said, "I'm sorry... I just... lost my head for awhile..."

Mac smiled, "Don't worry about it."

"It's just so unbelievable, Mac... we're scientists. We spent all our lives understanding things from a logical, scientific angle... then suddenly, here comes something that completely contradicts everything we believe in..." she said.

"Not everything. There are many things changing, but many other things stay the same."

"Like Gerrard being an ass?"

"And like you being one heck of a liar..." Mac said with a grin.

"Shut up. I saved your ass back there," she said.

Mac replied, "What made you change your mind?"

"I didn't. I still think this whole thing is nuts, and if I had a choice, I'll carry on my life and forget I ever heard the name Sylar and keep on believing that my thoughts are completely private as far as you're concerned," Stella said, "But, since that's not going to happen... I guess I realize that there's no good complaining and it's better if I do something about it instead of drowning in self pity."

Mac had to laugh, "Don't worry, I'll try and get my power under grips,"

"Me too. Notice I didn't break down your door just now..." Stella said with an impish smile.

"Too bad you didn't, it would have given Gerrard quite a scare..."

Stella asked "Where are the others?"

Mac sighed, "Quarantine."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Flack opened the door into the spacious room. It was pitch black. He closed the door behind him and stood still.

_'I need to see...'_

He closed his eyes. When he reopened them, he could see the room just as clearly as if someone had turned the light on. The only difference was that there was a kind of eerie glow to his vision.

He looked around the spacious room, alert for the slightest movement. Then he heard it, the slow intake of breath... the pounding beat of a heart other than his. It was soft, but definitely there.

He turned in the direction of the heartbeat and walked as quickly and silently as he could.

Danny hid behind the wall in the darkness, out of sight. He heard the door open and close but nothing else. He stood still, heart thumping fast, listening for the slightest sound.

He didn't hear anything other than his own breathing and his heart pounding. But he suddenly felt something.

Vibrations... from the floor to his shoes and then to his feet. Quick, staccato-like vibrations. Someone was coming.

He ducked right in time. He heard a vicious cat-like snarl above him. Then, he felt heavier vibrations as someone hit the ground beside him.

He held out a palm and concentrated. A ball of flames appeared hovering inches above his hand. He held it up and saw Flack slowly getting to his feet. He held up his other hand and thought of water.

But he hesitated. The glow of the fire illuminated Flack's features and Danny saw Flack's eyes shining. They were reflecting the light coming from the fire. When he looked closer, Danny could see that his eyes were no longer the normal blue. His pupils were slit-like... like a wild cat.

Danny's hesitation was all Flack needed. He lunged at Danny with immense strength, knocking him to the ground.

Danny struggled for a moment then remembered how he got Hawkes off him a few days ago.

WHOOSH. The blast of wind threw Flack right off him and towards the wall instead. Flack turned quickly in mid-air and hit the wall with his hands and feet. And he stuck there.

A vivid image of Spider-Man entered Danny's mind. This time, he didn't stop. Drawing up as much as energy as he could, he sent a strong jet of water, almost whip-like, in Flack's direction.

Flack leaped off the wall right on time, landing gracefully on the floor. He got ready to attack at Danny again but at that moment, the lights in the room were switched on. He flinched then closed his eyes. His vision was back to normal.

The ball of flames that Danny produced also disappeared.

Mohinder came into the room with a satisfied smile, "That was really amazing... Your abilities have amazing potential."

Flack grinned, "Yeah, give me another minute and I would have knocked you out cold,"

"You wish," Danny smirked back.

"Right, well. Give me some time to analyse the information I got from that, and I'll let you know," said Mohinder.

Stella grinned, "What a way to conduct experiments, Mohinder... feed their already inflated egos..."

"Hey, we're practising. What if Sylar turns up, huh? We'll be able to at least stop him from cutting open our skulls," defended Flack, "Quite a good idea of Mohinder's to rent us this empty place for practice,"

Danny said, "Yeah. And good thing it's underground too. I think I just found an 'earth' ability," He was kneeling down, palms on the floor.

Mac nodded, immediately understanding, "Vibrations through the earth, you can detect sounds and movements?"

"Darn. No wonder you knew I was coming..." Flack scowled.

"Yeah... but I suppose it only works when I'm closer to the earth, not on the streets above or the skyscrapers..." Danny said, getting up.

"I'll watch out for the subways if I were you," grinned Flack.

Mac said, "Alright. We better get going. Stay alert guys, Sylar is somewhere around. And I have a feeling he isn't the kind to give up easily."


	12. Zugunruhe

Thanks again to Jess. ;-)

_Chapter 12_

_When a change comes, some species feel the urge to migrate, they call it 'zugunruhe', "A pull of the soul to a far off place," following a scent in the wind, a star in the sky. _

_The ancient message comes calling the kindred to take flight and gather together. Only then they can hope to survive the cruel season to come._

Night had long fallen over New York City. Mohinder's apartment was dark and all was quiet, save for the bright glow his computer screen emitted and the occasional soft, staccato clicking of the mouse and computer keyboard.

His eyes were dry and strained, as usual, but he kept going on with his work. It was especially hard for him to carry out experiments and to analyse them, seeing that he had very little of the required equipment and even less funds.

Slight stabs of worry came to him every so often. His part-time job as a cab driver was barely enough to pay for his rent and utilities. And here he was, working late into the night for something that he wasn't exactly sure what the rewards were, if there were any to begin with... And yet, he kept going.

Perhaps it's the fact that he successfully brought significant progress to his father's work. Perhaps he wanted revenge, by getting rid of Sylar. Perhaps he just knew all along, that this was his calling. This was what he was meant to do... finding and providing answers and also giving help and guidance for the people who have these amazing abilities.

If he did run out of money, well, he could always charge them for services, he thought with an amused snort.

He looked up from the computer screen and glanced around the small living room. Danny and Flack were in sleeping bags on the floor, fast asleep. Lindsay and Stella were sharing Mohinder's room, upon his constant insistence. Hawkes was still awake though, sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper by the soft lamp light with a creased forehead. Mac was the only one not staying over at Mohinder's place. He was still at work, probably thinking about cover-up stories for his team's disappearance.

Mohinder wished him good luck with that. He had no idea how long it would be before it was safe for them to leave, without the danger of both Sylar and having their secrets uncovered. It was a little scary, not having an exact plan of action. Mohinder could only hope that everything falls into place, and hopefully, with no one getting hurt.

He saw Danny turn over in his sleep, a slight frown on his face. What goes through their minds, Mohinder wondered. What do these newfound abilities mean to them? Are they more excited, or scared? Do they see it as a blessing, or a curse?

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"_Earthquake!!" screamed a distant, panicked voice. Faceless people push past him, in their desperate efforts to escape. Too late, tremors broke out under his feet. Moments past, the tremors got worse. More screams filled the air. _

"_Do something!!"_

_The ground shuddered and broke apart. Fire blazed out furiously from the earth's crust, like a volcano. He tried to run. In the opposite direction, there was a huge tidal wave, flowing fast, about to crash into him. _

_A hooded figure stood in the distance, watching him. Dressed in black from head to toe... _

THUD!

His eyelids flew open. It was not the sound, but rather the vibration he felt travelling through the hard floor that woke him up. It felt like someone struck a hammer to his skull.

Through his blurred vision, Danny could make out Mohinder bending down to pick up whatever object that had accidentally fallen off his desk. Must be something hard, like a heavy paperweight, judging from the vibrations it made.

Vaguely wondering if this 'earth' ability of his to detect vibrations in the ground came with an off-switch or not, he turned onto his back, trying to get back to sleep. No good, he was awake.

Yet another dream about elements, this one was slightly different, but still very much the same. He missed the times when he dreamt of stupid, weird things that weren't important and made no sense. He figured that last time, he dreamt of elements as a sign of his new powers. But now he knew of them, why weren't these mysterious dreams going away?

After a moment, he gave up. He sat up, put on his glasses and glanced at his watch. Nearly 1.30 a.m. He looked around the room. Mohinder and Hawkes were still awake, no surprise there.

He got up and walked over to Mohinder's desk. His T-shirt clung to his back and cold sweat lined his forehead. Whether from the dream, or the hot summer air, he wasn't sure.

Mohinder looked up from his computer screen when he heard Danny approach, "Hey. Did I wake you?" his tone was apologetic.

"Nah..." Danny lied, "I was awake."

Mohinder nodded then he pointed towards the microscope beside him. It was old and not as good as the ones in the lab, but it served its purpose anyway.

"Check out the sample of Stella's blood," said Mohinder, "They look... well, tough. Reinforced..."

Danny lifted his glasses to his forehead and peered into the eyepieces. Mohinder was right. There was no other word to describe her blood. Instead of the normal pinkish circular blood cells, Stella's were thicker, darker and just simply stronger.

"My theory is that every cell in her body is reinforced like this. That's what gives her super strength. Imagine her bone cells... they will be able to withstand heavy weights without breaking. Or her muscle cells, which cause her to be able to lift things many times her weight..." Mohinder's voice was filled with excitement.

Danny nodded and sat down in the chair beside him. "How did you get into this?" Danny had been curious about it for quite a while.

Mohinder raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"You know... all this," Danny said, indicating the microscope with his hand, "How do you know that people with these powers exist? What got you into helping us?"

Mohinder looked away from the computer screen and gave a small smile, "My father was the one who really began exploring the possibilities of human evolution in the first place. He was the one who realized that humans have not actually stopped evolving. He believed that there was a lot more to come..."

"When I was old enough, I studied the same things he studied... taught all his theories to my students," he hesitated, "It wasn't really because I believed him all that much. I guess I just wanted to please him."

"Then he left for New York. I told him that he was throwing his life away to chase an impossible dream... He wanted to hunt down people with abilities and he got murdered by one of them instead. Sylar..."

"After his death, I came here, looking for clues. I almost gave up... until I found his list," he glanced at the well-used map on the wall behind him, "He actually found a way to find people like you guys. And suddenly, it's real. His theories were right."

"You guys are special. Who you are... what you can do... Your abilities can change lives... help people..." Mohinder said, "Realistically, not many people can accept the differences you guys have right now. At the same time, not every person with powers will necessarily use them for good,"

Mohinder continued, "Human evolution. We all have our parts to play. As a scientist, as my father's son, I'm honoured to be able to play a part in this, wherever it takes me," He concluded with a determined smile.

Danny nodded, Mohinder's words echoing in his head, '_Play my part..._ _Wherever it takes me...'_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

By 2 am, Mohinder finally retired to his own sleeping bag and had nodded off almost immediately.

Danny sat in Mohinder's seat, reading 'Activating Evolution'. It was only now that Danny had made the connection and he felt like an idiot not realizing it sooner. _Mohinder Suresh... Chandra Suresh..._ He vaguely remembered Chandra Suresh's murder. The case was declared a robbery and was not pursued any further.

Hawkes meanwhile, was still perusing the New York Times. Out of nowhere, Hawkes suddenly got up and shoved the newspaper in front of Danny, "Read that."

Danny raised an eyebrow then lowered his eyes down to the article Hawkes pointed at.

There was a picture of a young boy who looked no older than Danny's own next door neighbour, Ruben. This kid's name was Andy Stone and it appeared that he had been missing for two whole days. He had last left home to play with his friends at a basketball court and hasn't been seen since. The short article ended with a speculation that he ran away from home, and there was a plea from his mother for him to come back.

"He didn't run away from home. He was abducted." said Hawkes, his face serious.

"What do you mean? How do you know?" Danny asked.

Hawkes closed his eyes and said softly, "I can feel what he's feeling, Danny. Right now, it's 2 am in the morning, and he is hungry, weak, tired and petrified."

When Danny didn't respond, Hawkes said loudly, "We have to do something! Call it in! Let people know that this kid is in trouble!"

"Woah, hold it, Doc," Danny said, palms out, "We can't tell anyone. What are we supposed to say? 'I felt how the boy felt?'"

"Alright, then let's go,"

"What?"

"Let's go find him!" said Hawkes with an air of obviousness.

"Are you out of ya' mind? Mac told us to stay put." Danny replied.

Hawkes frowned, "Since when have you become some bent on following Mac's orders?"

Danny was taken aback; Hawkes was acting very un-Hawkes like. He looked panicked as well as excited with an air of desperation.

"What's goin' on with you? Out of nowhere in the middle of the night, you suddenly wanna play hero?"

"Danny, there is a kid, _lost _somewhere in the middle of the night!"

"Ok, maybe you two aren't tired, but all the different species of animals inside me as well as I myself, would like to actually sleep right now," came an irritated voice.

Hawkes smiled suddenly, "YOU can find him!"

"What?" asked Flack, completely nonplussed.

Hawkes spoke more softly, "Just like how you found Stella. You sniffed her out with your dog ability! You can find this kid the same way!"

Danny grimaced, "Hate to break it to ya' Doc, but Flack has no idea what the kid smells like..."

Hawkes paused then snapped his fingers, "What do we do with scent dogs? We bring them to the scene so they can pick up the scent of the kid!"

Flack scowled, "Do you mind? I'm right here, you know... stop referring to me as a real dog," His eyes ran over the article quickly then he looked at Danny, "He wants to save this kid?"

When Danny nodded, Flack turned to Hawkes, "Hawkes, it's dangerous to say the least. You heard Mohinder; we don't have much control over our powers yet..."

Hawkes struggled to keep his voice down, "I don't believe you guys. Why are you so keen to good boys and stay here? We became cops for a reason, right? To help people. But as cops, we can only do so much. We often come at times when it's too late, when the victims are already dead!"

He turned to Danny, "Didn't Mohinder just say that our abilities can help people? Change lives? We have these powers for a reason, to help. Not to sit holed up in this apartment, hiding... like cowards."

The last word had an effect. Hawkes knew that both Danny and Flack never took too kindly to being called cowards. He watched them exchange glances and said, "It's 2 am. There are fewer people out on the street. We'll be back before the rest of them realize we're gone."

When the two of them remained silent, Hawkes looked down at the picture of the boy. His heart began thumping fast and panic pulsed through his veins. His hands shook and his stomach rumbled.

And right before Flack and Danny, Hawkes slid down to the floor, hugging his knees to his chest, shaking.

"Hawkes?"

After several long moments, Hawkes looked up, "You have no idea how this kid feels like, guys..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He was just about to nod off in the dark alleyway. Then he suddenly heard footsteps. He looked up and saw them coming out of the apartment building opposite. A black guy, followed by the tall guy who could fly and bringing up the rear, was his target. The one wearing glasses.

He watched as they headed down the street.

So easy... So predictable... Like clockwork.

He set off at a brisk but silent pace after them.


	13. Fight

_Chapter 13_

_This force, this evolution, is not sentimental. _

_Like the earth itself, it knows only the hard facts of life's struggle with death. _

_All you can do is hope and trust that when you have served its needs faithfully, there may still remain some glimmer of the life you once knew._

Memories of his numerous days spent at basketball courts like these during his childhood and adolescent years flooded back to him, causing him to smile a little. These things were synonymous with playing the game in the streets of New York City; the hoops with chains for nets, the well-worn concrete ground which always made sneakers squeak, the small benches with peeling paint and the graffiti-filled walls.

Don Flack was always one to kick ass on the court, even against older kids. Now, he wondered if it because of his powers. Was it his animal abilities that made him such a good player? Flack wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. He didn't know whether to think of it as natural talent, or even cheating...

A quick check had been made by Flack to the dispatch centre as inconspicuously as possible in order to get the exact address of Andy Stone's home. There was only one basketball court in that neighbourhood so the three of them had made their way there immediately.

There were no street lights there so Danny produced a big, ball of crackling flames that hovered inches above his hand which successfully lighted up the area sufficiently. "This kid's been gone for two days... what makes you think Flack can pick up any of his scent?"

Hawkes scowled, "Is being pessimistic a hobby of yours, Messer?"

"Me? No... I'm being realistic," Danny replied coolly.

Flack ignored them and focused instead on simply breathing. In his mind's eye, he could see the boy's face, the image of Hawkes on the floor of Mohinder's apartment, a basketball swishing smoothly into a hoop, the face of a Golden Retriever...

And suddenly, the familiar sensation returned to him. Every direction he turned, a sharp new scent attacked his brain. Worn-out rubber from sneakers and basketballs... stale remnants of beef in the garbage can... newspaper pages... candy wrappers on the ground... the sweat of the many kids that played in the court during the day... Danny and Hawkes' own unique scents...

"Hey Flack, over here!" called out Hawkes. Flack looked up, surprised to find that Hawkes and Danny had already walked all the way to the alley opposite.

Hawkes smiled when Flack came up to them, "Sometimes, all you need is a little luck." With Danny's fireball providing light, he pointed towards the floor. There, thrown down and looking quite grimy as if it was dropped and forgotten, lay a school bag with the name Andy Stone written in marker at the corner.

Flack nodded, "Nice." He took a couple of good long sniffs, ignoring his comrade's amused smiles. The boy's scent jumped at him immediately. Flack knew exactly where to go. It was as if someone had provided a lighted trail before him, "Follow me."

He headed further down the alley and climbed over the fence blocking the way with the climbing agility of a monkey before dashing out of sight.

"Great... he expects us to keep up?" Hawkes muttered.

He turned to Danny and saw him glancing around, looking a bit worried.

"What?" asked Hawkes.

"I dunno... I thought I felt something..." he looked down, shifting his weight on one foot, then the other, "Short vibrations... like footsteps, you know?"

They both took sweeping looks around the alley, but saw nothing.

"Probably a cat..." Hawkes said, "Or some drunk passing by."

Danny shrugged facially and extinguished the flame, "We better get moving."

He leapt over the fence even faster and smoother than Flack did. It seemed almost as if he was as light as air.

'_Oh wait... he probably was...'_ thought Hawkes. "Wonderful. Now I have to keep up with a cheetah and wind... Just my luck..." he muttered irritably to himself as he climbed over.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

So... rescue mission, eh? So they want to play hero. Save the world...

What a waste of abilities.

Speaking of abilities, it seems like he was too quick in judging what his prey could do. It was a complete surprise, albeit a pleasant one, when he saw his next target produce fire on the palm of his hand. Then what was it the black guy said? He had to keep up with wind. And he could sense vibrations in the ground. That day, he used ice to stop those bullets.

Fire... air... earth... water...

He could hardly contain his joy. In for a nickel, out for a pound... Once he killed this guy, he'd have control over the four elements.

Then, he'll move on to the other two. The tall one could pick up scents, like a dog. He could fly, he could run really fast. Animal abilities... he deduced, his heart pounding excitedly. Who knew he'd hit the power jackpot tonight? He wasn't sure what the black guy could do, but he was pretty sure he had powers as well. He'd just have to wait and see.

Smiling widely, he leaped over the fence and followed them.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You know, it would have probably been wiser if we took the car..." Hawkes said with a wry smile.

He and Danny kept a steady pace behind Flack, who seemed too absorbed in his own world to feel tired.

"It shouldn't be too far... Andy Stone and his abductor definitely didn't drive either, or Flack would have already lost the scent," said Danny. Then, he added, "See? Realistic."

Hawkes rolled his eyes. They had reached one of the smaller, less frequented ports in Manhattan and Flack had stopped moving.

When Danny and Hawkes went up to him, Flack said, "I lost it..."

"What?"

"I lost the boy's scent... there's just... too many things around here... it's clouding up everything..." Flack was turning his head desperately around, trying to pick up the familiar scent.

But even Danny and Hawkes could tell what Flack meant. The salty scent of the sea lingered with the smell of garbage from the garbage barges as well as the variety of assorted scents from fish to whatever was locked in the numerous containers were strong even for their normal human sense of smell.

"But he's definitely somewhere around here. The scent was pretty strong before it got covered by all these," said Flack, waving an arm about.

"In that case, I say we split up," said Hawkes, "We can find him faster that way. This isn't a very big port,"

When the other two hesitated, Hawkes said, "Come on! We've got guns, we've got cell phones. And you two can kick ass with your powers. What's the worse that can happen? If we find the kid, we'll call each other, alright?"

After a moment, Danny nodded while Flack said, "Fine, let's go." And the three headed off in separate directions.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Andy sat in the corner, hugging his knees to his chest. The pathetic sandwich that David gave him before he left was long gone and he was starving.

He wanted to walk home but he didn't know the way. Even if he did, he wouldn't have the energy to do so.

No one had passed by. No one knew that he was here. Obviously... he was stuck in an abandoned building that no one bothered to enter anymore. Maybe once morning came, the workers at the port might have some reason or other to come back up here and find him.

But of course, they couldn't hear him, with this gag David had tied over his mouth.

Andy was about to fade off into unconsciousness, with the image of his mother in his mind, when the door suddenly opened. A tall man dressed in black stood at the doorway. For a moment, Andy thought that David had come back. Tears ran down his face again.

"Shh... it's ok... I'm not here to hurt you," said the man, his voice was not as deep as David's, "Andy, isn't it?" he removed the gag, "What happened to you?"

The man's voice was kind and gentle. Andy cried harder, "D-David..."

"Who?" the man asked.

"M-my mom's b-boyfriend... said... he'll k-kill me..."

The man pulled Andy into a hug, "It's ok. He can't hurt you now. I'm here to help... You're safe now..."

He smiled. If there's one thing he knew about these 'hero' types, they can't stand seeing the innocent getting hurt...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Danny took a look at his watch, half past three. He had been running around the containers for quite a while, no kid. Just when he was about to check if Flack or Hawkes had any luck, his cell phone rang.

"Messer."

"Danny," came Flack's voice, "We found him."

"You did? Where?"

"You know there's a building to the north? Three-stories? It used to be the offices for the companies running the port. But they have moved to the opposite side of the port already, so this place is abandoned. We found him in the basement parking lot. Turns out his mother's boyfriend grabbed him and kept him there. Jealousy issues I bet."

"Alright, I'm on my way."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The basement car park was dark, humid and dusty. A few feeble florescent lights provided a dull white light.

Danny walked slowly, trying to pick up the slightest sound. His heart thumped uncomfortably. He couldn't see Flack or Hawkes or even a 10 year boy anywhere.

Maybe he had the wrong place. "Flack?" he called out. He felt soft vibrations in the ground.

Then, he heard Flack's reply right behind him.

"I'm right here." It was Flack's voice alright, but it sounded much more sinister than Danny had ever heard before.

Before he could react, he was airborne, thrown, by some invisible force. He crashed solidly against the hard, cement wall and slumped onto the floor, dazed.

Before he could pick himself up, the same invisible force lifted him up above the ground and pinned him hard against the wall. A dark figure suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Strong fingers closed around his throat.

"Hi, Danny."

For the first time, Danny saw Sylar's face. He looked to be the same age as Danny himself. Dark hair, thick eyebrows, sharp face... He looked intelligent, even handsome. But there was a definite evil and sinister aura around him.

He smiled, looking evilly entertained. When he spoke, he spoke in Flack's voice, "Cool, huh? Remember the first victim that made me famous? Charlie Devons? He had the power to imitate voices."

"I killed him. Cut open his skull," he waggled his eyebrows, "And now I can do what he does."

His grip on Danny's throat tightened, "You're a crime scene investigator. I'm sure you saw the pictures of his body. And all the other bodies... They all had abilities, abilities which I have now..."

He stopped using Flack's voice. Now a higher, greedier voice spoke, "You see, this is what I do, Danny. I kill special people. I take away what makes them special. _You're _very special, aren't you?"

"I'm sure it must be a high honour for you. To become just like all the victims whose murders you have been investigating. Skull open... brain spilling out... Then your other CSI friends can come and take pictures and swabs and whatever else... victim number seven. Killed, because, you are special,"

Sylar lifted his other hand and held up two fingers level with Danny's forehead. Then, he moved his hand in a straight line.

Pain erupted from his forehead, causing him to shout in pain. Danny's hands flew to the hand that was grasping his neck. His hands closed on Sylar's wrist. Sylar let out a scream and instantly let go of Danny.

His other hand immediately went to his wrist. Smoke escaped from his dark jacket's sleeve, the fabric peeled away, burnt. The skin on his wrist was burnt raw.

Danny had fallen to the floor again when Sylar let go of him. His hand immediately went to his forehead. He could feel a cut starting from his right temple to the middle of his forehead. Blood trickled down his face. Thankfully it was just skin that Sylar had sliced through and not his skull... yet.

His heart thumped furiously as he saw Sylar look up at him, anger and definitely murder in his eyes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hawkes had run into Flack mid-way through his search. Both of them had come up empty.

Hawkes took out his phone to call Danny and was half way through dialling the number when a sharp pain struck his forehead. He gasped in pain.

"What?!" Flack asked, panicked, "Who did you think of?!"

Rubbing his forehead, Hawkes said, "Danny's in trouble."

"Oh crap." Flack shook his head.

_We are all, at our cores, the sum of our fears. To embrace destiny, we must, inevitably, face those fears and conquer them. _

_Whether they come from the familiar... or the unknown._


	14. Battle Part One

Hi all. Long time no see. :P Had my mid-term exams for two weeks so I couldn't focus on this. But now it's holiday time so I better finish this off. I had planned to finish off the battle scene in this chapter alone, but I won't be home this weekend. And, it's getting pretty long. So I'll just split it up into two parts. This one is mainly focused on Danny and Sylar. More of the rest of the gangs powers next chapter, I promise.

Oh, and a couple of thank yous to dish out. Jess, as always, many thanks for all the help.  
BenRG, I've used a couple of your ideas and suggestions, so thanks.

And for those who watch/are familiar with the show (fine. cartoon :P) The Avatar, I described Danny's moves against Sylar with battle scenes from that show in mind. Heh. How visually pleasing. Seriously. XD

_Chapter 14_

_Evolution is an imperfect and often violent process. A battle between what exists and what is yet to be born._

_In the midst of these birth pains, morality loses its meaning. The question of good and evil reduced to one simple choice: _

_Survive or perish._

"It's Sylar, damnit. I bet it's Sylar..." Hawkes growled angrily, "I shouldn't have been so quick to suggest splitting up... I shouldn't have-"

Flack cut across him, "We'll find time to play the blame game later, Doc..." He took out his cell phone and dialled quickly. After a moment, he spoke to the person on the other end, "Mac, Flack here," he paused and glanced at his watch, "Uh, yeah... it's nearly four. You're awake aren't you? Yeah, I thought so..." he said a little sheepishly, "Listen, we've got a little problem..."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sylar scowled as he slowly rubbed his burnt wrist, "Nice trick, Danny. Did you learn that all by yourself?"

Danny slowly stood up, willing himself to stay calm so that he can formulate a good plan that didn't involve him lying in this dark, depressing basement with his head popped open like a tin can.

Should he fight back, or escape while he could? But how?

"_Technically, I'm quite sure your ability will strengthen over time..." _Danny remembered Mohinder saying this to Lindsay very recently.

It started with heating and cooling coffee. Then he could hold off his own against Flack's animal powers. Would he be able to manipulate the elements to be powerful enough to knock out Sylar and escape unharmed? Practicing his powers with Flack was one thing; this time however, was for real.

Oh heck, Sylar didn't look like he was going to be shy with his abilities, so Danny wasn't about to either. He lifted his hand and focused hard on fire, imagining a strong ball of flames sailing across the parking lot towards Sylar. The fire appeared, inches above his hand, as always. He was about to throw it in Sylar's direction when Sylar suddenly put up a finger to his lips and said, "Shhh... don't wake dear Andy..."

He pointed to his left and there was a little boy lying on the floor, not moving. "You cops really need to brush up on your rescuing skills. Imagine, a simple civilian like myself finding him first," said Sylar, adopting a pitiful tone.

"Don't worry, he's still alive. Just asleep," he grinned even more menacingly, "That's the power I obtained from victim number three... what's her name? Oh, yeah... Sally. Such a sweet lady too. Works in a rehabilitation centre... helps people to sleep when they can't."

"Now you wouldn't want to get violent with this young, innocent boy here, would you? What if he gets hurt?" he asked in a martyr-like voice.

Danny slowly lowered his arm, the ball of flames disappearing at the same time. _'Stay calm... they would have noticed you're in trouble by now... they'll be here soon...'_

Sylar nodded, "I'm glad you care so much for the safety of this kid. Too bad I don't."

With a casual flick of the wrist, a few rusty planks of steel flew from a pile of trash in the corner and flew rapidly towards Danny. He narrowly ducked the first two but the third plank connected painfully with his left shoulder.

He raised his right arm and made a sweeping motion, catching the fourth piece of steel in a strong gust of wind which caused it to veer to the left, where it made a loud metallic crunch against the wall instead.

He breathed hard and fast, adrenaline pumping through his veins. Once again, he had reacted without thinking, just like with the bullets and just like how he sent Hawkes flying across the office.

'_Your body knows what you can do... but your brain doesn't know yet...'_

'_Great... thanks, body.'_ Danny couldn't help but remark sarcastically to himself, _'Now if you can just instinctively get me out of this mess...'_

He also noticed the young boy was still asleep despite the noise. That power Sylar stole was definitely working well, all because he devoured the poor woman's brain matter...

No longer hesitating, Danny thought '_Fire._' It seemed like he knew exactly what he needed to do. With one fluid motion, like a punch, the crackling ball of flames flew from the space in front of him towards Sylar, who got out of the way so quickly that all Danny saw was a blur.

He reappeared to Danny's left, grinning the grin that was annoying Danny more and more each minute, "Victim number two. Mr. Davidson. Super speed. Didn't even put up a fight..."

Vaguely wondering if Sylar was anything like a computer and would run out of 'memory space' for powers sooner or later, Danny drew a deep breath and tried again. _Fire... fire... fire... water. _

Sylar dodged the first three fireballs quickly but the sudden burst of water caught him off guard and he fell back, soaking wet.

Despite the desperation of the situation, Danny couldn't help but notice a strange, but pleasant calmness whenever he used the elements. With every burst of flame and gust of wind, it seemed like his body knew exactly which way to turn... his hands knew how to move. Harmony... synchronization... second-nature... He couldn't tell which was stronger, the calmness in using his powers, the pain he was feeling or even the fear raging in his head.

"Again, cute trick..." growled Sylar. He flicked his hand again and Danny was thrown painfully against the wall once more. Danny tried one more fireball, but this time, it stopped inches away from Sylar, "Telekinesis... the first power I ever got. And boy, is it helpful..." The fireball made a U-turn, straight for the boy.

With stupendous effort, Danny hoisted himself up and sent a blast of water towards the fireball. They collided, producing a big ball of grey smoke with a loud bang. The boy was thankfully unharmed.

"You know, I don't usually like to play with my food before eating them... why don't you just give in, Danny-boy?" Sylar challenged.

"You wish..." Danny muttered. Wherever Flack and Hawkes were right now, he wished they would hurry up and find him.

"How would it be if an innocent boy died in your charge? Wouldn't be the first time someone got hurt because of you, right?" Sylar taunted.

Danny stood still, heart hammering hard against his chest.

"Before you start thinking I'm merely a parasite feeding off other people's powers, I have a power that's my own too. I'm good with how things work. That's why I fix watches. I can tell they are broken even when they seem to be working. I can see their miniscule gears... I can hear their hearts... just like a clock. Tick... tick... tick..." He waved his hand suddenly and Andy Stone suddenly woke up. Another wave and Andy was pinned against the wall, held by an invisible force, suddenly choking.

"Tick... tick... tick..." Sylar continued mockingly, "Your heart is broken too, Danny. Did you know that? I wonder why..."

As much as he tried to push it away, images of Louie, comatose in the hospital bed, pushed into his mind. With a loud yell, Danny threw a strong gust of wind in Sylar's direction, sending him skidding across the dirty car park floor.

Andy slid down to the floor, coughing. "You alright?" Danny asked.

"W-who are you? What's going on?" the boy sounded extremely terrified. He cast a frightened look behind Danny and screamed.

Instinct took over again. Danny brought his hand up and a column of air was formed, creating a shield for him and the boy against more pieces of scrap metal sent by Sylar. The pieces of metal flew off in mixed directions. Only after that did Danny give himself a mental kick in the ass for using his power in front of the kid.

Andy turned even paler, "What was that?!" Tears of fear welled up in his eyes. He was trembling, "Who are you?!"

Using super speed, Sylar reappeared right beside them, still smiling.

Danny said to the boy, "Hold that thought." Not daring to use fire with the boy so close, he tried air again but Sylar's telekinesis threw that blast of air back at Danny, knocking him a good few feet back, winded out.

Sylar did not look the least bit tired. Danny, however, could hardly stand. His head ached dully with blood from his forehead still trailing down his face. His left shoulder seared with pain and so did his back. He wasn't sure how much longer he could defend himself, let alone the boy...

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

By the time Flack had managed to sift through all the different smells in the port and locked onto Danny's trail, Mac had caught up with them along with Stella and Lindsay.

The moment they met up, Stella all but screamed, "What were you thinking?!"

Flack and Hawkes exchanged glances. Hawkes said, "Sorry, Stel... but we had to help the boy,"

"And you didn't think to call us as well? Knowing that Sylar's somewhere around? Knowing how dangerous it is, especially for us?"

Mac cut across Stella's tirade, "Where is Danny, guys?"

Flack took one last sniff of confirmation to make sure, "Both Danny and the boy's scents are coming from over there," he pointed at a tall, worn-down building down the road.

'_My fault... all my fault...'_

'_Honestly... these three should have more sense. Come on, Stella, what would you have done? I would have at least told everyone what I planned to do!'_

'_Wonder if I can tear Sylar's guts inside out?'_

'_Danny...'_

Mac shook his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts that weren't his. "If Sylar's really got Danny, and the young boy is there with them, we have to be really careful. Ok? We know Sylar is really good at his game. So we've got to up ours,"

He was interrupted by Hawkes suddenly dropping to his knees, breathing heavily.

"What's wrong?" Stella asked.

Hawkes groaned, "Danny... we better hurry up..."

Mac nodded, "We need a proper plan. Alright-"

But at that point, he suddenly realized Lindsay's thoughts were no longer in the mix of voices in his head. He looked around and she was nowhere in sight, "Lindsay?"

"Well, how about that..." Stella said with a tiny smile, "She mastered full body invisibility at last." Despite the situation, she couldn't help but be amused, "Talk about the power of love..."

Flack mastered an impulse to roll his eyes. He blinked and suddenly his vision changed. Bright colours jumped out at him... red, blue, green, yellow. He looked at his co-workers. "Woah..." he said. Their bodies were now big red blobs with bits of yellow and green scattered here and there. It was like those thermal cameras, except it wasn't so digital... it felt more natural... as if this was the way he had been looking at things his whole life.

And there, in the distance, he saw another reddish blob heading for the building.

"What is it, Flack?" Stella glanced at him and gasped. His blue irises had been replaced by a pair of completely black, cold eyes. His pupils dilated till they almost filled his eyes, rimmed with a thin band of gold.

"Snake eyes..." Mac said softly.

Hawkes nodded, "You know, some snakes like pit vipers, pythons, and boas have infrared-sensitive receptors that allow them to see radiated heat. Flack's probably the only one who can see Lindsay now,"

Mac returned the nod and said to Flack, "Lead on."

Fighting feelings of fear and apprehension, the four of them headed towards the building.

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Remember this is after Snow Day only. Doesn't include the Ruben storyline. Or I would have thrown all that in already. XD  
Hope you enjoyed this chapter, especially Danny fans. Review! Please and thank you.


	15. Battle Part Two

_Chapter 15_

It took her quite awhile before Lindsay actually looked down at herself and realized that she was invisible. Just to make sure, she glanced at her reflection in the dirty window of a long abandoned car. The driver's side window showed nothing but the orange light of the street lamp behind her. Her body was completely invisible.

She quickly shook off her feelings of awe and ran into the shabby, dark building. Lindsay was not exactly sure what her plans were. In fact, the only thing she was sure of was that she's recklessly running headfirst into danger.

She heard the voices of the rest of the team, realizing she was no longer there with them. Lindsay couldn't say for sure why she didn't wait for Mac to come up with a plan, choosing instead to charge into the basement with no plan in mind.

Maybe it was the fact that she was tired of running away, of hiding herself while others were in danger. Where was she when her best friends were being murdered? In the bathroom, cowering. Where was she when Mac and Flack were in a building that had blown apart? Outside, away from the danger. Where was she when Danny was held hostage in the warehouse? Asleep, safe and sound.

No one had ever blamed her for these things. But she blamed herself alright. She didn't want to run anymore.

As she neared the steps leading into the basement, Lindsay could hear a child sobbing. Then came some murmured voices and loud thumps.

She pulled out her gun slowly and headed down the stairs. She couldn't see her trembling hands as she tightened her grip on the gun and that was scary but reassuring all the same. She stepped into the dimly lit basement and had to bite her lower lip to prevent herself from making a sound.

Danny was slowly pushing himself up from the floor. Blood, bruises and dirt mixed on his face. His jacket was torn on his left shoulder, where there was blood as well. Behind him was a small boy, curled up in the corner with his knees to his chest, watching the scene in front of him with tears in his eyes. Right in front of Lindsay was definitely Sylar. His dark clothes were also dirty and his cap was gone but he looked to be in a better state than Danny.

"Give up, Danny. You're going to die here anyway," said Sylar, with the most evil voice Lindsay had ever heard in her life.

Danny's eyes suddenly went from Sylar to Lindsay. Surprised, Lindsay looked down. She was no longer invisible.

'_Concentrate!' _she thought to herself. In an instant, she had disappeared again.

Other than a slight widening of his eyes, Danny's expression didn't betray anything. He straightened up and waved his hands in a smooth motion. A very strong blast of wind hit Sylar and he nearly fell against Lindsay.

Danny took the opportunity to glare in his estimated direction of Lindsay's gun, which was pretty accurate and said, "Don't."

"A little blast of wind isn't going to get you anywhere, Danny," growled Sylar as he pushed himself off the dirty floor.

Danny tilted his head quickly towards the boy and he winked. Lindsay understood what he meant immediately but she hesitated. For one thing she wasn't at all sure if she could get the boy out of the basement unnoticed. For another, she didn't want to leave Danny to fight Sylar alone in such a state.

Perhaps it was the fact that the two of them knew each other all too well. Perhaps it was pure instinct or intuition but Danny knew Lindsay hadn't moved. "Please..." he muttered.

Completely missing the exchange, Sylar said, "How pathetic. You've resolved to pleading? I thought you were stronger than that,"

Danny moved his arms swiftly again, forming a stream of water, almost whip-like. He directed it towards Sylar, striking him hard on the face, "Now!" he yelled.

That's when Lindsay made her move. She ran up to the boy and gently placed a hand on his mouth. The boy immediately stiffened and shook harder, "Andy, I'm here to help. It's ok. Just follow me, alright?" she said softly with as much warmth as she could muster.

She took a deep breath and willed herself to stay calm. She placed her hand on his shoulder and held on tightly. Slowly, but surely, the boy disappeared from sight too. "Come on..." she half carried, half dragged the boy towards the stairs, praying hard they didn't suddenly reappear.

It was hard enough to keep herself fully invisible. She found it torturous to do the same thing for the young boy as well. Halfway to the stairs, she couldn't hold on any longer. She felt her invisibility power drain away. The boy reappeared, and so did she.

Sylar's eyes widened but he recovered from the shock quickly, "The Invisible Woman... how fascinating..."

Lindsay saw nothing but a blur and Sylar suddenly reappeared at the bottom of the stairs, blocking the exit, "You're not going anywhere,"

Lindsay glanced at Danny and her heart wrenched in pain and fear. Danny was lying on the floor, not moving at all.

Sylar caught the fear in her eyes, "Aww... what's the matter? Did I hurt your boyfriend?"

"Sylar!" shouted a new voice. There was a loud sound of fist against flesh and Sylar went flying forwards halfway across the room. Stella smirked in satisfaction, her right arm still stretched out and hand still clenched in a fist. "Now that felt extremely satisfying," she said with a smile.

Lindsay gave the kid to Mac and ran towards Danny, who was unconscious. Sylar picked himself up again and glared around, "It'll take more than that to stop me, Stella." He flicked his wrist and Stella flew into the air and slammed hard against the wall. She remained stuck there, unable to move. Sylar smiled and held out his hand, like holding an invisible throat. As he bent his fingers closer together, Stella felt something closing on her windpipe. Her eyes watered, unable to breathe.

A battle was raging in Hawkes' head. Over and over he had been thinking to himself like a mantra, _'Hawkes, Hawkes, I am Hawkes...' _But when he saw Stella in trouble up on the wall, one name barged into his head, _'Sylar'_.

Hawkes let out a strangled yell and threw himself at Mac, who was right in front of him. His hands immediately went to Mac's throat, cutting off his air supply. His head seared in pain as his own mind battled for control over Sylar's emotions.

"Hawkes, what are you doing?" Mac choked.

Everything around Hawkes had no significance anymore. It was just his panic and fear fused with Sylar's greed and anger. He couldn't tell where he was... who he was... his head felt like bursting.

Mac hadn't spent all those years in the Marines for nothing. Using the combat skills he had learnt, he landed a blow to Hawkes' gut and twisted out of his grip. He grabbed Hawkes' arm and wrenched it to his back, causing Hawkes to buckle over in pain. "Sheldon! Focus!" Mac yelled.

For a moment, Mac sensed struggle in Hawkes' mind. But almost immediately, Hawkes' emotions relaxed and Mac knew Hawkes was his own self again.

'_Sheldon... I am Sheldon...'_

"That's right... you ok?" Mac asked calmly.

"Yeah..." Hawkes muttered shakily, cold sweat poring down his forehead.

Meanwhile, Flack had body-tackled Sylar to the floor. This caused Sylar's telekinetic hold on Stella to break and she slid down from the wall, coughing. Flack and Sylar rolled on the floor, landing blows at each other wherever they could. She might have imagined it, but Stella thought she saw the silhouette of a great brown bear in Flack as he fought Sylar.

Mac had turned to Hawkes, "Listen, get this kid out of here now. It's not safe for him here. And neither is it for you."

Hawkes opened his mouth to argue but he felt his head pounding again, like a reminder that instead of helping his team mates, he could hurt them instead. He nodded numbly and took hold of the kid's arm, taking him back up the stairs.

Lindsay had managed to revive Danny, "Are you okay?"

"Never better..." Danny muttered dryly, rubbing his wounded shoulder.

"Yo, Mess... little help here?" called out Flack suddenly, who was pinned down by Sylar. He suddenly yelled in pain. Sylar had tried to slice through his skull. Danny swiftly moved his arm again, creating a gust of wind that threw Sylar off Flack.

Flack got up, gripping his bleeding forehead and cursing under his breath. He met Danny's eyes and said sarcastically, "Look, we match now..." The cut was not as long as Danny's, but it was bleeding badly all the same.

"When are you going to give up, huh? Even five of you can't stop me!" said Sylar, "Is that all you can do with your powers? I haven't even begun!"

With that, he suddenly shimmered out of view, "Victim number 4. Jean-somebody. Chameleon-like powers!" he boasted. Sure enough, he wasn't completely invisible like Lindsay; he just took on the same dirt-grey colour of the wall behind him.

"Victim number 5. Ms. Runnick," the few florescent lights that lit up the basement suddenly went out, "I'm not sure what to call this. 'The Ability-to-Turn-Off-the-Lights' sounds too long and corny. But it's pretty cool anyway, don't you think?"

"And of course, Fiona McCurt. The metal manipulator. But I already have telekinesis to move metal around, so her power was just for the sake of collecting..."

Flack had instinctively turned on his snake-ability again. He saw Sylar moving closer towards them, unaware Flack could see his movements. Flack looked around, observing where all the red, blue and yellow blobs were. He could tell from the shape and height which body was Mac's. He willed him to read his mind. Luckily, Mac caught on immediately.

'_He's heading towards Stella and Danny.'_

Sylar was still talking, "Ever wonder why you got these powers? I always did. All those people I killed, they didn't know how to use their powers in a way that benefited them the most. They were lost... confused. I'm doing you all a favour you know, I'm taking away your burdens from you. Without your powers, you never have to worry about helping people... about being found out... about where to draw the line between good and evil... Of course, you'll be dead, but that's a different story. Why-"

"Danny! Fire now!" Mac shouted.

Without hesitation, Danny threw a blast of fire right in front of him. The dark basement was illuminated with the flames. Sylar screamed horribly in pain, clutching his face. Flack could see the red hot flames through his snake vision, bright and furious.

Groping in the dark, Stella felt one of the pillars supporting the basement floor right beside her. Without meaning to, her super strength caused a couple of bricks to crumble apart. An idea hit her, "Guys... let's end this now."

With all her might, she threw a punch against the pillar. Bricks and cement immediately flew in all directions. She moved on to the next one and did the same thing. Through the flames caused by Danny, she could her friends' questioning looks.

"Old, abandoned building... neglected for years... falling apart... weak foundation... we can bring this place down."

Flack voiced out, "Stella, that's both very brilliant and very insane. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"Well, unless you want to keep sparing with Sylar until we all fall over in exhaustion, be my guess. In case you haven't noticed by now, the five of us can't bring him down on our own. I think it's high time we cheat."

They exchanged glances with one another. They could see her point. But Stella wasn't finished yet, "You guys have to get out of here," she said to all of them, "I'm the only one who can do this."

Flack narrowed his eyes and slammed his body into the pillar closest to him, which also fell apart, "I'm sorry, did you say you were the only one?"

Danny placed his hand on one of the pillars. He closed his eyes and the whole pillar burst apart. He then gave them a cocky smile which was a little marred by the bruises and cuts on his face, but had the effect he wanted anyway.

"How did you-?" asked Lindsay.

"Well, bricks are made of earth, right? So I just took a shot..." he said with a shrug.

Sylar let out an anguished scream, "Alright. No more games."

"Go!" Stella yelled at Mac and Lindsay.

The two of them hesitated. But Stella met Mac's eyes with a determined glare. Mac then heard her steady, calm voice in his head.

'_Trust me.'_

Mac paused for a moment more, then grabbed Lindsay's wrist and together they ran up the stairs.

"Operation Demolish Building. Let's go." Flack said with a smile.

Stella shook his head, "I can't believe you can still joke at a time like this..."

Sylar was just beginning to realize what was going on, "No!" he shouted, waving his hands. The bricks on the floor flew up in the air and flew towards the three of them. Danny threw up his hands and produced an air bubble of sorts, which protected them against the bricks.

Ignoring her bruised and painful knuckles, Stella brought down pillar after pillar and so did Flack, "The other floors!" Stella shouted.

They raced up the stairs, with Sylar hot on their trail. "Just another day at the office, huh?" Flack quipped dryly.

"Remind me to reply to that in a wise-ass way once we're safely out of here..." panted Danny.

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Lindsay paced around the building agitatedly, "They're taking too long..."

Loud crashes could be heard throughout the building. The sky was becoming lighter by the minute. Daylight was approaching. "What if they can't get out in time?" Lindsay asked with a tremble.

Mac remained silent. He was just as scared and nervous. Lindsay's voice echoed in his head, _'What if they can't get out in time?'_

Or, what if Sylar caught up with them? Mac gritted his teeth, his hands shaking slightly. After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a minute, he said, "I'm going back in."

The words hardly left his mouth when the building finally crumbled with a deafening crash. Mac, Lindsay and Hawkes along with the boy ducked out of the way as quickly as possible. Bits of concrete and dust rained over them. It was as if it was happening in slow motion. The building fell apart from the bottom first and up on the roof, which was about five stories high, they could see three figures running towards the edge.

Ears still ringing, Mac could make out Flack's panicky voice, "Get off the roof, get off the roof!"

Just as the building crumbled below them, the three of them jumped off. Almost as if in slow motion, Mac watched in awe as Flack angled his body and soured skywards with a loud eagle screech. Danny and Stella meanwhile, were heading straight for the ground below.

Stella was screaming but Danny meanwhile looked... at ease with the air, just like Flack. He moved through the air faster than Stella and landed smoothly on top of one of the ship containers. With extremely fast reflexes, he moved his arms and formed an air bubble which caught Stella gently moments before she hit the ground.

As the last bits of the building crashed to the earth, Danny and Stella went up to their team mates. Lindsay threw herself at Danny, hugging him with all her might, as if trying to convince herself that he was alright. Flack soon swooped down and landed right beside them, looking a bit pale and windswept, but happy nonetheless.

After many reassuring hugs all around, they glanced back at the building. "Sylar's gone?" Hawkes asked. Even as he said that, he noticed his emotions were completely his own, free of possession by Sylar.

Stella nodded, "There's no way he could have survived that..."

The sun was rising now, casting a calming orange glow over them.

"So, what now?" Lindsay asked.

Mac smiled. "Let's go get some breakfast."

Flack grinned, "You read my mind."

The rest of them groaned. Lindsay shook her head, "Bad, Flack... real bad..."


	16. The Calm

Donkeys of all donkeys. (No insult to donkeys meant...) I just realized today that this story was actually nominated under the recent CSI NY fan fiction awards for Best Crossover. I'm pretty much dead in the world of forums so that would explain my ignorance.

I just want to say thanks to Axellia, ImaSupernaturalCSI and lilymoonlight for the mentions. No, I'm not telling how many votes I got. It's kinda embarrassing XD. All the same, it felt really good to see my name up there. So thanks again, and I promise I won't be such an out-dated prune next time.

_Chapter 16_

_When we embrace what lies within, our potential has no limit. The future is filled with promise; the present rife with expectation._

_When we deny our instinct, and struggle against our deepest urges, uncertainty begins. Where does this path lead? When will the changes end? Is this transformation a gift or a curse? _

_For those who fear what lies ahead, the most important question of all - can we ever really change what we are?_

Stella winced as she moved her hands. The bandage that Hawkes had wrapped around her knuckles on both hands did indeed help but every small movement caused the cuts to burn in pain. _'Let this be a reminder to never go punching concrete ever again...' _she thought wryly to herself.

"Yeah, but if you hadn't thought of that, we probably wouldn't be able to defeat Sylar," said Mac, causing her to jump.

"You have got to stop doing that..." she scowled.

Mac smiled in return, "Sorry. Wish I knew how,"

"Ditto that," chimed in Hawkes. He glanced at Flack and said, "Look, if you're so hungry, why don't you go ahead and order?"

Flack did not bother taking his eyes off the menu, "Stop tapping into my emotions, mister. I'm still deciding..."

Lindsay leaned over, "I heard the oatmeal is pretty good..."

"Please, Lindsay. It is _breakfast_ now... I'm not a cow... I _eat _cow..."

He turned towards the counter and waved for a waitress. After taking down she took down their orders cheerily, Lindsay glanced at Danny, who, judging from the unfocused look in his eyes, was obviously deep in his own thoughts, "You ok?"

Almost like snapping out of a trance, Danny glanced back in her direction, "Oh, yeah. Sure. I'm good," he answered, subconsciously rubbing the cotton bandage covering the cut on his forehead.

Looking at him, Stella felt little reason to complain about her injuries. Both Danny and Flack had several cuts and bruises on their faces and pretty much everywhere else. Nothing serious or lasting but the both of them looked like they had been in some kind of gang fight. In a way, they had.

It was around 7.30 in the morning. They were all seated around a table in the breakfast diner that they constantly frequented, especially Mac. It was here a couple of years back where a shooting happened and Mac was caught smack dab in the middle of it.

This was the place that they usually hung out for breakfast when they were working the night shift. They usually talked the morning away, discussing their cases. Many mornings were spent here laughing over wacko criminals and lamenting about the sick murder scenes they had worked.

Stella found it amusing that barely one week ago, an ark in Noah's backyard would be what the CSIs considered as strange. Now, her perspective of strange did not even include mind-readers, animal imitators, element manipulators and a murderer who eats brains to obtain powers.

For the first time in the past few days, the thought of herself having super strength was no longer something overwhelming or even crazy.

As she sat there in their familiar haunt, surrounded by her friends with the scent of frying sausages and oatmeal in the air, Stella felt perfectly at ease with what she had become.

"What do you mean, Stel?" Mac asked. Stella glared at him again.

"Just curious..." he replied with a smile.

Stella smiled back and continued her thoughts out loud, "I've been thinking, I've... We've been through so much these past few days. We've found out who we really are and what we are capable of. I can't help but think, life is so different now... we have to keep our powers secret, we have to be ready to tackle other Sylar-type murderers, we can now help people in all new different ways...

But at the same time, we don't have to handle this alone, because we have each other, as always. So, life is still the same. At the end of the day, we haven't actually changed," she gestured around the diner, "We're still hanging out here. We still have the same thoughts, same emotions... we're still who we are."

"Hear, hear..." said Flack, raising his coffee cup. Everyone raised theirs too and they tapped their cups together in a toast. Just as Stella replaced her cup back in its saucer, the handle snapped off.

Stella pulled a face and said, "At least I didn't break the whole cup this time..." She set down the broken handle right beside the cup as casually as she could.

Danny suddenly held up his hand for silence. His eyes were focused on the TV screen mounted on the wall. The rest of them turned towards the screen as well. They saw a pile of rubble where the building used to be at the port. The place was surrounded by New York Fire Department trucks and officers, a couple of NYPD squad cars and reporters and their cameramen, all angling for a better view of the rubble.

The female news anchor was saying, "New York Fire Department officers are sifting through what remains of this old, abandoned building which used to house the offices of various shipping companies using the port. Officers have yet to find any casualties and they are optimistic it will stay that way as this building had long been unused. The cause of the collapse is still unknown although initial investigations revealed it could be due to the natural wearing-down of the foundations of the building."

Hawkes said, "Yeah... it couldn't have been the work of CSIs with amazing super-powers. That's for sure. How's Mohinder taking this?"

Mac replied, "I called him just now. He took it quite well. I guess the death of Sylar was welcoming news for him. We'll still have to check back with him. There are still some tests he wants to finish,"

His voice trailed away as the waitress brought them their food. Flack grinned and immediately plunged into his bacon and ham breakfast. He met Lindsay's near disgusted expression and declared, "What? All that adrenaline rush this morning worked up an appetite..."

"You look worried," stated Danny, looking at Stella.

Stella replied, "I dunno... the news anchor said there were no casualties. That means they haven't found Sylar. What happens when they do?"

Flack shook his head, "There's no way that'll lead back to us. We trashed the place. There's no evidence to be found. In fact, even if they found out who he was, they're just going to think, 'Oh, we've got the serial killer. Case closed.' Crude, but there ya' go." He thought for a moment, "Let's hope we won't be assigned to the case of that happens..."

Stella bit her lip, "Maybe... but what if... there's no body to be found?"

Mac frowned, "You think he's alive?"

"They haven't found any bodies... either way, it worries me," said Stella.

Flack shook his head, "Stel, relax. He may be Sylar, but at the end of it, no one could have survived that. And we did not see him get out."

Stella hesitated for a moment then nodded with a smile, "Yeah..."

Hawkes let out a loud exhale, "But you know, as Lindsay said earlier... what happens now?" He took a spoonful of his bowl of oatmeal and nearly gagged, "Cold..." he muttered.

"We lie low. We learn to control our powers. Make them stronger. We can help people, like Stella said," said Mac, "I'm not talking about donning superhero suits and becoming the Fantastic Six." He almost laughed at the younger CSIs' expressions.

"These powers may contradict all our scientific believes but they're here to stay. Might as well use them... And we'll see where they take us."

Hawkes nodded, "Yeah, but..." he almost wringed his hands in an effort to express what he really wanted to say, "What... what can we do?"

He saw Danny staring at his bowl of oatmeal with narrowing eyes. After a moment, steam rose from the bowl. Hawkes took another spoonful and it was now deliciously piping hot.

Danny grinned, "What can't we do?"

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Just the epilogue to go. Thanks for sticking to this story from start til' finish. I really appreciate it.


	17. Epilogue

Muahahaa.. finally. My apologies for the long delay. :-) Thanks for sticking to this story.

Oh, and I nearly forgot to mention. Flack's epilogue was written by co-plotter Jess. But I guess you can tell from the different writing style. Hahaha. Thanks again for all the help, amigo.

_Epilogue_

_We dream of hope, we dream of change, of fire, of love, of death ... then it happens, the dream becomes real, and the answer to this quest and need to solve life's mysteries finally shows itself, like the glowing light of the new dawn..._

He glanced sideways at the young boy sitting silently in the passenger seat. The kid's eyes were focused at some point outside the car window but his thoughts were pin-balling all over the place.

'_Mum... fire... explosion ... cops with powers... evil villain... David...'_

"Don't worry, kid. I've got officers out looking for the man who kidnapped you. We'll have him behind bars in no time," Mac said reassuringly. He turned his gaze back to the road and asked, "This turning, right?"

Andy Stone looked at the direction Mac was indicating and nodded numbly.

Although normal procedure was to call the boy's mother down to the station to collect him, Mac decided to drop Andy off at home instead, for quite a few reasons. First, sitting with the boy in the police station crowded with cops and their jubilations and worried thoughts were only going to aggravate his still pounding head.

Second, he didn't want to be cornered by Gerrard and his many suspicions about Mac's team. Also, it was getting quite late at night and Mac felt it would be safest for the boy to go straight home.

And of course, there was that issue of Andy Stone knowing more than he should.

Given the day's events and everything the boy had seen, Mac was surprised that he seemed quite okay. He had seen kids suffer from serious symptoms of post-traumatic stress for a lot less than what Andy witnessed.

Mac was unsure what to say to him. What if Andy started telling everyone he knew about what he saw? But then, would anyone believe him? Should Mac impress upon him how important it was to stay silent about their powers? Being only 10, would Andy understand? It was so strange that despite being able to read minds, Mac had no idea what was going on in Andy's.

He could crack even the most obnoxious of suspects and deal with the most frantic of witnesses, but talking to this little kid was very alien to him. Mac remembered all the looks of amusement he attracted the last time he was seen taking care of a young, curly-haired boy who had witnessed a murder in the museum. He and Claire never had kids... 'Together that is...' he thought wryly as his mind flashed upon Reid Garrett.

As Mac pulled up in front of the apartment building Andy lived in, he cleared his throat and asked, "Are you okay?"

Andy nodded again.

They went up the stairs together in silence. When they neared Andy's apartment door, Mac said awkwardly, "Listen, Andy... you've been through a hard day. It's a lot to deal with. I'll be sending someone from social services to help you, okay? You can talk to that officer about what happened to you. It'll help you," he paused, "But..."

The door swung open and a woman who was perhaps in her mid-thirties stepped out, "Andy!" she exclaimed, pulling her son into a tight hug, tears running down her face.

'_Thank God...'_

"I missed you so much..." she sobbed.

After a moment, Andy replied quietly, "I missed you too, mum..."

The woman glanced up at Mac, "Thank you," she said earnestly. Mac nodded. In that small moment, he was reminded forcefully why he became a cop.

"Andy..." Mac called out.

The boy pulled a small distance away from his mother, looking at Mac.

Mac hesitated. Words failed him. Instead, he merely said softly, "Take care."

He walked away. Half-way down the corridor, a young boy's voice suddenly echoed in his head.

'_Don't worry. I'll never tell.'_

Mac turned back quickly. Andy gave him a small smile. Mac returned it. With a wave of farewell, he left.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

She had changed into an old comfortable T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants the moment she got home. Now, she stared resolutely around her apartment, vacuum cleaner, rag and broom at the ready.

Being on call almost 24 hours a day had given Stella hardly any time to keep up with housekeeping. But tonight, it just seemed like the perfect time, despite her injured hands, to do some major, thorough cleaning.

She started off with the bed. Requiring almost no effort at all, she shifted the bed's position and vacuumed the dusty area underneath and behind it. Stella was quite sure she hadn't 

cleaned those areas since she had the bed placed there, due to the cumbersome weight. But the weight of her furniture was definitely no longer an issue now.

She carried on with her cleaning, behind the fridge... the TV cabinet... desks and tables... Once upon a more familiar time, heavy-duty cleaning like this required her to enlist stronger arms belonging to the likes of Mac, Flack and Danny to help her. Now, lifting a table was no harder then lifting a piece of paper. She felt like she had gained a newfound independence. And being independent was one of the traits Stella was most proud of. Despite getting tired, she kept at the cleaning, for keeping her hands busy also brought on a steady calmness over her.

As she cleaned, her mind flashed upon how she had been the one who had broken down upon learning about her powers. It seemed to her that everyone else on the team had more or less easily accepted the sudden extra responsibility given to them. She, on the other hand, had run off in a fit of anger.

Why had it been so hard for her? She had long been regarded as the pillar of the team. It was her unspoken job to keep them together, providing moral support and advice whenever her team mates needed it. Strength of character was another trait that she was proud of. Growing up alone without her parents had made her build a tough wall around herself. She had no one to lean on, so she leaned on herself. And ironically, as if to further underline her character, her 'power' was super strength...

She stopped short of her vacuuming. She was standing right over the spot where Frankie died after she shot him. Stella remembered the first thing she saw upon waking up was Mac's face, looking at her with concern and worry practically oozing out of every part of him. Then there was Flack, constantly at the hospital, not merely as a detective collecting a witness statement, but mainly as a friend to provide moral support.

Stella flipped a lock of her curly hair away from her sweaty forehead. Maybe she broke down because her early inability to control her powers reminded her too much of being weak. Not being able to hold a pen without breaking it made her feel helpless, just like when Frankie had her trapped in her own home, with plans to kill her.

Weakness... fear... helplessness. All the things Stella had worked so hard to get rid of. They all reappear in the form of Sylar.

But her thoughts strayed over to that morning's battle against Sylar. It became clear to her right there and then that her team mates were not going to let her handle her weaknesses on her own.

'_You don't have to be the pillar all the time...' _she reasoned as she resumed her vacuuming.

Sometimes, weakness was a strength in itself.

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He stood at the fire escape stairs right outside his apartment window, arms draped casually over the rail.

His eyes moved over the quiet and dark streets of New York, but he was not registering anything they picked up. He wasn't seeing... he was feeling.

Danny closed his eyes as he felt the steady, chilly breeze of the night brush against his skin. He felt almost as if the wind was greeting him... making friends... The cool air felt calming against his wounds from the early morning battle.

He reopened his eyes and held out his palm. The air he was 'holding' changed. It became a thin revolving wall of water, spinning like a tornado. Mid-spin, the light blue hue produced by the water molecules changed to a mixture of orange, red and yellow. He felt warmer as the flames circled round and round his open palm. After a moment, he clenched his fist shut. The fire did not have time to harm him as it turned into a mound of soft sand. He unclenched his fist slowly, letting the sand trickle down towards the empty street below. Only it didn't. Halfway through, the sand disappeared into air once more.

Danny nudged his glasses further up his nose with a knuckle, smiling to himself. The elements saved his life today. He should be thankful. But then again, the elements were the reason his life needed saving in the first place.

He couldn't help but ask himself, 'What if?' What if these powers came earlier? Would things have been different? With the help of their powers, would more killers have been caught, or would more have escaped? Would the subway shooting incident that cost him his promotion have happened differently? Maybe Louie wouldn't have been beaten up so badly. Maybe Aiden wouldn't have died...

_Ding!_

It took him several seconds to realize what the sound was. With a jolt, he gracefully leaped through the open window back into his apartment kitchen, like an experienced player in parkour. _Light as air..._

With a hurried glance at the clock on the wall, he grabbed the kitchen mitt left on the table, yanked opened the oven door and pulled out the steaming hot tray of chicken baked with cheese and potatoes. With a satisfactory smile, he gave his mother a silent thank you for providing the recipe which helped him score points with a certain co-worker of his from Montana.

Thanks to his moment of the fire escape, he was running late. Working quickly, he set the plates on the table as neatly as he could.

When he set the two wine glasses on the table, he felt a stab of frustration. He had forgotten to chill the wine. His hand ran absently over the bandage that Hawkes had placed on his wounded shoulder, he scowled '_There you go... having a bad case of amnesia already...' _

'_Wait...'_

A smile crept back onto his face. He grabbed the wine bottle off the kitchen counter and held it tight. Almost instantly, he felt a steady chill between his hand and the wine bottle. He set it on the middle of the table just as water droplets began to form on the green surface.

And not a moment too soon... Danny heard the knocking at the front door and he headed to open it. Just before that, he pointed his hand at the two candles on the table and they were immediately lit up with a gentle, warm flame.

He opened the front door, reassured by the thought that having these powers do not change the person he was. Instead of mulling over his regrets, Danny realized that he should be thankful that these powers were here now, and he could do so much with them. _Never look back... _And he was now looking forward to a pleasant dinner with his girlfriend.

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Lindsay held back a snort of laughter as Danny's expectant expression as he opened his apartment door changed to puzzlement. As quietly as she could, she slipped past him inside, grinning widely. It was definitely easier making her entire body invisible when she was not under the pressure of impending death from a brain-hungry murderer.

She watched as he peered up and down the corridor with a frown. He eventually gave up and closed the door. Turning around, he visibly jumped as he caught sight of her now visible self. She burst out laughing.

"That's not funny, Montana..." he scowled.

"Oh yes, it was," she grinned. She stepped closer towards him and kissed him in greeting. When they pulled apart, she asked, "I'm sorry. Better?"

Danny gave a grin of his own, "Can't complain,"

But as she gazed up at his face, her smile faded slightly.

"What?" he asked.

In reply, she raised a hand to his face, tracing the still raw cut across his forehead gently with her fingers.

"Montana..." Danny muttered, immediately grasping what was on her mind, "It's nothing..."

Lindsay shook her head, "It's not _nothing_, Danny... I keep thinking about what would have happened if we didn't get to that port on time..."

"But you did, and I'm ok. We're _all_ ok. So don't worry 'bout it,"

Lindsay sighed. _You didn't watch your friends die... _

No denying it, throughout the entire battle, she was haunted by the thought of watching one of them die. With every attack Sylar threw at them, she frantically looked around, praying desperately they would all get out of that building unscathed. On more than one occasion, she felt frustrated that all she could do was disappear. _Just like she disappeared into that bathroom in Montana..._

But without her invisibility power, she would not have been able to help Andy Stone out of the building, she reasoned. She wondered how the rest of her colleagues felt about their powers. Had they accepted who they were? Or were they all as confused as she was? What was it she saw in Danny's eyes, as he gazed at her in concern? Maybe fear... uncertainty... or perhaps even complete acceptance with his skills with elements. Probably all that, and everything in between...

But at the end of the day, for reasons unknown, it was the six of them with these powers... powers that were both blessing and curse. But they were in it together. And it was well proven today that they were all there for each other. Lindsay didn't have to deal with it alone, ever.

"Lindsay?"

She nodded and smiled at him, "Let's eat."

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He swerved up the court, his body flexible and agile. His balance was perfect and every movement smooth, polished, precise, yet his flow of action was almost casually lazy. He was fully aware of each muscle in his body, every joint sliding and locking with exact, accurate rhythm. He was speed, he was fluid, he was more than human.

With ease, he slam-dunked the ball through the hoop and landed in a crouch, swift enough to catch the ball before it hit the ground. For several heartbeats, he froze, taking easy, but deep, breaths. His slit pupils glittered as the adrenaline coursed through his veins.

Finally, he stood and spun the ball between his fingers in a single liquid motion before almost letting it fall, only to catch it again between his palms and tuck it under his arm.

Barely sweating although it had been almost three hours since he stepped onto the court, he shot one last glance at the hoop and net as he turned to walk off the darkened basketball court. The lights had been off for a while, but then again he didn't need light. The world of 

night was his oyster; a thousand new avenues had opened up to him when he embraced his skills.

His shoes squeaked on the concrete floor and he stretched luxuriously. Somewhere inside he released the feline instinct he had been holding on to, and Don Flack almost crumpled from aching exhaustion. Buckets of sweat drenched his shirt in a matter of seconds. The basketball he was holding fell and bounced weakly away from him as, gasping, he doubled up to lean his hands on his knees and catch his breath when a sharp pain sprung up in his side with every inhalation.

"Memo to self: put a lid on the cat thing," he managed to mutter between breaths. Finally Don Flack stood slowly, picked up the ball and continued with barely much of a stagger, albeit more shakily.

He couldn't deny that he was still a little confused. What was going to happen? Was he really strong enough to hang on to himself, to handle the powers he had? But in the midst of all these thoughts, Flack felt a twinge of calm acceptance, something to hold onto. There had to be a reason he had these talents.

He was prepared to keep moving on, no matter what. Life wouldn't wait for him. That was, after all, the natural course of things, the balance in the universe. Why should it, when he was ready to take it head on, to tackle any curveball it threw at him?

He paused at the gate to the court and looked over his shoulder again at the deserted area, his cat eyes gone but his blue irises still shining with pride.

He began to walk once again, not needing conscious thought to know he was heading home. Call it animal instinct. And Don Flack Jr., animal extraordinaire and basketball superstar, disappeared into the night.

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He downed the shot of tequila in one quick swallow and indicated to the barman for another. No, he wasn't trying to get drunk, though it wouldn't be such a big deal if he did. Maybe being drunk will numb him to his emotions... and everybody else's as well.

Dr. Sheldon Hawkes was scared. This morning he had lost control and attacked Mac. Not too long ago, he had attacked Danny. He was sure that it would happen again, whether tonight or in a month's time, he didn't know. But he was sure he hadn't seen the last of the nastiness of his power.

Hawkes felt slightly resentful. He wished his power did more good than harm, like maybe Flack's power or Danny's. He didn't like intruding in on people's emotions... invading their privacy. He wondered if Mac felt the same way about his mind reading abilities. Well, at least Mac's power is useful for many things...

As if to further underline his resentment, his body suddenly ached with detached tiredness but satisfaction the moment he thought of Flack. And as for Danny, Hawkes shook his head both in wry amusement and in a valiant effort to shake off the sudden flurry of heated emotions that a night of passion usually brought. Hawkes quickly sent a mental apology to both Danny and Lindsay for intruding in on their night... See why he hated this power? He downed the refill the barman brought. Mac meanwhile, was feeling dead calm which Hawkes had seen plenty of times reflected on his face before.

Hawkes sighed. So maybe he was the only one grappling with his powers tonight...

He glanced down the bar and his eyes met briefly with a guy sitting a few chairs down, an empty bottle of beer in front of him. Instantly, Hawkes felt down. Depressed. Was life really worth living?

Hawkes shook his head again, shaking it off. He turned away from the guy and focused on a table filled with men in business suits on the opposite side. They were loud and rowdy, clinking glasses and proposing toasts, clearly celebrating. Hawkes wasn't the least bit surprised when he suddenly felt jubilation so strong that he had a hard time keeping a smile off his own face.

There was so much positive energy coming from that table, Hawkes almost wished it could be siphoned off to the depressed guy. No sooner had he thought it, he felt a rush of heat running through his body... the depressed guy suddenly looked quite a lot more cheerful. The table of businessmen grew slightly quiet.

Hawkes frowned. Did he do that?

He remembered Mohinder saying that their powers will get stronger. Perhaps that's what was happening right now.

Despite the slight confusion, Hawkes gave a real smile of his own. Maybe this power of his had some use after all...

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He backed off from the huge and heavily pinned map on his wall, staring at his latest additions. Right over the dot indicating New York City, there were now 6 new pictures. It was because of this 6 faces that Sylar was now gone for good.

Mohinder sat down at his computer. His desk was littered with various open files and print-outs about invisibility, animal cells, strengthened cells, brain diagrams and so on. He would soon report to them about his findings. They're scientists after all. Just like him. And just like him, their lives were turned around forever thanks to the scientific topic of genes and evolution.

It was quite obvious that they no longer needed his help in grappling with the truth of who they are. They had found out about their powers, began to learn how to control them, and got rid of Sylar within a span of a mere few days. Mohinder owed so much to them.

He had done his part for these 6. Now he had to hunt down the rest of the people on his father's list. What a job... he smiled to himself and got back to work.

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Eric Turner glanced at his watch. It was nearly time to close up. Finally. He glanced out of the kitchen and into the dining area. Only one guy was seated at one of the tables, bent low and fingering his mug of beer.

From the hunched way he sat, Eric could tell that the guy probably had a bad day.

As much as he'd like to shoo him away and say his diner was closed, Eric decided to go and make small talk instead. Might as well cheer the guy up.

"Hey, buddy. Want a refill?" Eric asked.

The guy remained hunched, but out came a friendly reply, "I'm good, thanks."

"Long day, huh?" Eric asked, moving closer to him. He frowned slightly. The guy's hands looked a raw red. Like they were burnt...

"You have no idea..." the guy replied coolly.

Eric caught sight of his face and backed away in fright.

The guy's black attire was littered grey and white with dirt and was also riddled with tears. But the state of his clothes was nothing compared to his face. Burnt raw and puffed up with several vicious cuts, he looked barely human. Dark cold eyes stared back at Eric, as if studying his reaction. A sinister smile crept on his lips, cracked and caked with dried blood.

Eric couldn't move. He looked away, but the fearful image was implanted in his mind forever.

"Don't be scared," said the guy, still smiling, "I told you, I'm fine."

He stood and threw a five dollar note on the table. "Take care, buddy," he said before he stepped out into the night.

It took awhile for Eric to stop his knees from trembling.

END


End file.
